


Our Stars ~ Part I: Dreams

by HomuraBakura



Series: Our Stars Saga [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon Rewrite, Family, Gen, Minor Characters Become More Important Than They Used to Be, Minor Violence, Nonbinary Character, Past Lives, Yu-Gi-Oh Style Character Deaths, you can probably read almost any ship into this tbh but there's really no actual shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-05-07 04:36:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 52,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5443538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomuraBakura/pseuds/HomuraBakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Astral was not the first mysterious friend from another world that Tsukumo Yuma had ever made.  In the depths of a dreamlike world, Yuma will meet the enigmatic being that may play a larger role in his destiny than he ever imagined possible, while his sister Akari struggles to hold their family together after their parent's disappearance, and Tenjo Kaito fights for the safety of his own younger brother.  Threads and lives will intertwine as the world hurtles towards its destruction--unless Yuma can find the strength within himself to take on the ultimate challenge of fixing a broken world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i should just warn people at the beginning; this story is on a hiatus! Part I is complete, but I don't know when I'll get to part II...it will update as a sequel to this one, but this story IS incomplete, technically, and I don't know when I'll be getting back to it :(

 

 

  
**Part I**

**~Dreams~**

**Tsukumo Yuma * Tsukumo Akari * Tenjo Kaito**

* * *

_“At the beginning, there was only light and darkness, and a heart in between them.”_

_– opening line of the Heartbeat Cycles. Author unknown._

* * *

 

The air sparkled as though it were made of stardust. Instead of dust, small glimmers of light floated through the air, some of them a little bit larger than the others. They sparkled like flecks scattered from a gemstone, little stars dancing in the air. The ground was made of a silvery-violet sand that slid beneath his feet. The grains made a soft sound, like tiny chimes, as they slid across each other. This landscape spread out all the way to the horizon, bleeding into the deep purple-black sky that was painted with swirling galaxies in deep, jewel-toned colors. Like a desert frozen in the middle of twilight beneath a completely clear sky.

But although galaxies shone in glorious nebulae above, it was as though they were only painted there, rather than being made of stars. Besides those colors glowing in the sky above, there was only a single white star hanging in the blank darkness.

The little boy stood with his bare feet sinking into the sand, turning around in circles with a wide-eyed wonder, his mouth hanging open.

Tsukumo Yuma giggled with delight, reaching out with tiny fingers to try and grab a glimmer that floated near him. As though they were only made of air and dreams, his hand passed right through it. It sent a tingle through his arm, though. He shivered with a hint of delight—the feeling was like the fizz in soda.

He stepped out onto the sand, his feet slipping, and dug his toes into the velvety softness of it. He thought, though, that it might be easier to walk around if he had some shoes...

As though responding to his thoughts, the sand swirled up into tiny whirlwinds in front of his toes, sliding and wrapping around his feet. The next moment, he was wearing his favorite black and white sneakers. A huge smile grew across his face. Oh, perhaps this was a dream! If that was so, then what else could he do?

He crouched down on the balls of his feet and stared at a particular patch of sand. At the soft touch of his imagination, the sand swirled up into a tiny tornado. It spun in faster and faster circles and then—poof! The tiny golden circle plopped into the sand. Yuma beamed as he picked up the coin. He had imagined one of his dad's Conqueror's coins, and now, here it was!

He held it up to the sky, letting it glint in the ambient light that didn't seem to really come from anywhere at all.

He stood up and dropped the coin back to the ground, smiling at it. His first coin drop! And it was someplace not even his dad would be able to go!

Yuma turned in a circle then at the barren landscape. With such a big, blank slate, what could he make? This dream could be his own private world. Oh, maybe he'd make some mountains! He's always wanted to see mountains—his dad wouldn't take him until he was a little older.

Skritch, skritch.

The sound was incredibly tiny, but in the vast silence of this world, it rang out as clear as a scream. And it sent a horrible, dreading shudder down Yuma's back. All of a sudden his mouth was dry and his heart started to beat as though he had just started running. Sweat beaded on his forehead and palms and started to roll down his cheeks.

Skritch. Skritch.

The sound was coming closer. Closer. He couldn't move. Why couldn't he move? The dream was turning into a nightmare!

The thing crawled slowly around into his view.

He couldn't see what it was. It was—it was a shape, blurred and red, perhaps vaguely like a bug? But his eyes couldn't understand what he was looking at, as though his gaze kept sliding off of it, or as though there were a spot of dust blurring against a glass wall between him and it, preventing him from seeing it clearly. He thought it might have a heavy abdomen that dragged along the ground behind it, and maybe spindly legs and bulbous eyes on stalks that stared at him with a blankness like the vast cold depth of space.

It was right in his face now. He could feel its breath on his cheek, the feeling of hot desert wind mixed together with the crawling feeling of an insect on his skin—terror pounded through his veins. The roar of blood echoed in his ears.

“Are you afraid....” he heard the hiss.

“Are you afraid...?”

Another one—another voice? No, more than just two!

He could see them, out of the corners of his eyes, in slightly different shapes. All of them were that same, blurred, uncertain shape that he couldn't comprehend. Only certain, terrifying characteristics came across clearly: a dripping trail of acidic goo, fangs covered in saliva, a scorpion's tail, hands with too-long too-thin fingers. The very landscape seemed to be blurring into a deep, dark red, like the color of blood that is just beginning to dry.

“Are you afraid?”

“Are you afraid?”

“Are you afraid?”

The voices chorused around him as they circled ever closer. High-pitched voices, deep, gritty ones, echoey, dead-sounding ones, they all echoed together in a horrifying whirlwind of sound as they moved closer and closer and closer —

The insect-like one reached out with a thin, mantis claw, touching it against Yuma's cheek and slowly drawing down against the skin before resting on his throat.

“Are you afraid?”

Yuma could only let out the tiniest squeak of horror.

And then something warm wrapped around his shoulders, something bright and shining smacked the claw away, and Yuma was pulled into a tight embrace.

“No,” a voice echoed above his head. “I am not afraid.”

The voice was...young, Yuma thought, but older than him. Like the kids from the middle school that he watched duel in the park. It resonated, vibrating across the barren landscape.

The creatures skittered back uncertainly.

“No,” the voice repeated. “I am not afraid.”

The creatures hung in the silence for just a brief moment longer. And then, as though made of dust, they simply blew away, dissolving into a spray of red dust that then vanished into the black.

Yuma did not move for a long, long moment. His rescuer didn't move either. Soft hands continued to rest on Yuma's shoulders. Yuma realized, somewhere at the back of his head, that the hands were cold, that the pulsing of blood in those hands felt somehow...sparkly. They weren't quite right...not quite human...

After a few more beats of silence, his rescuer's hands squeezed his shoulders.

“Are you all right?”

The voice was soft now. It felt like the breeze between the trees on an uncommonly cool spring day. Yuma felt himself relax. Air rushed out of his lungs all at once.

“Uh-huh,” he said.

He stood in the embrace for a moment longer—it felt right, he thought. Like his mother's arms, or his sister's. But then he thought that he wanted to know what his rescuer looked like, and he wriggled out of the loosened grip and turned around to see them.

The figure was twice Yuma's height, but Yuma was only about two feet tall himself. They seemed to be made entirely of fragments of light, crystalline, even. The shape was human, slender, curveless, and flat chested, with thin, wispy arms but stockier legs, but the composition was alien, the skin a light lavender that glowed, almost transparent. Their hair was a crystalline white-violet and long enough to pass the shoulders, stirring in a nonexistent breeze. Their eyes were a pale, glowing violet instead of white, and had no pupils—however, there was a warmth in them that made them seem kind and safe rather than frightening. They smiled, a gentle expression on a round, youthful face.

“Hello,” they said, with a voice made of wind chimes and spring breezes. “I don't get many visitors...what's your name?”

Yuma stared for a longer moment than he probably should have, and then blinked to alertness.

“I'm Yuma,” Yuma said. After a pause, he added, “I'm four.”

He kicked the sand with his hands behind his back, a bit sheepish.

“Um...thanks for scaring them away.”

He stared up at the figure, mouth falling open slightly with awe.

“How did you do that? They just ran away.”

They smiled, eyes glowing warmly.

“Nightmares can only hurt you if you're afraid of them,” they said. “If they ever bother you again, simply stand tall, square your shoulders, look them right in the eyes, and say 'I am not afraid.'”

They demonstrated, standing up straight and pulling their shoulders back, looking very sternly at an imaginary nightmare. Yuma's eyes widened.

“Eh? It's that easy?”

The glowing figure relaxed from their position and smiled down at Yuma, nodding. Yuma stared at the ground for a moment, considering this. Then he smiled and looked back up at the figure.

“That sounds like what to-chan tells me. He says 'kattobing, Yuma! You can do it!'”

The figure blinked.

“'Kattobing'?” the figure said, trying out the word. “What does that mean?”

Yuma bit his lip, eyes unfocusing as he thought about it.

“It means...um...to challenge! And to keep going! And...don't give up!”

Yuma jumped in the air and punched at nothing to demonstrate, but only managed to fall on his butt. The crystalline being's hand went up to their mouth to hide a small smile.

“'Kattobing,'” they said again, as though enjoying the taste of it. “I like it...”

Yuma grinned from where he was still sitting on the ground. He liked this person, he thought. He liked the way that they got a faraway look in their eyes when they thought about things. And the soft, gentle way that they moved, as though they were afraid of hurting something invisible surrounding them.

“Oh!” he said suddenly, as though remembering. “Um...what's your name? And where is this place? Is this your home?”

The being blinked, lips parting. They just stared at Yuma for a moment, as though he were something that they had never seen before.

“My name...?” they said finally. “Hmmm...I have a lot of those.”

“Really?” Yuma said. “Cool! Which one is your favorite?”

“Hmm...a favorite...”

They looked up into the sky, considering. A tiny breeze whispered through the world, stirring their hair and lifting their straight bangs up from their eyes.

“I think...Lua,” they said, quietly. “You can call me 'Lua.'”

“Lua-kun,” Yuma said, testing out the name. “I like it!”

Lua smiled.

“Thank you.”

“So is this where you live, Lua-kun?” Yuma asked, his eyes wide with wonder as he turned in a big circle. “What is this place?”

Lua nodded.

“Yes, this is my home. It's called...well...I don't suppose it has a name. It's only a dream, after all.”

“It's really pretty!”

Lua again looked surprised.

“Really? You don't think it's...monotone? Everything is the same color...and it just goes on like this forever....”

Yuma shook his head furiously.

“Nuh-uh! The colors are nice! And I like the sky!”

He fell back against the sand with his arms spread out so that he could stare at the sky. He moved his arms up and down a few times like he was making a snow angel.

“But...I wonder where all the stars are. Are they hiding?”

Lua sat down beside Yuma, legs tucked underneath them.

“Hmmm...I suppose they must be. There used to be a lot of stars here. But then...”

Yuma turned his head, his hair dragging through the sand.

“But what?”

Lua smiled, and there was the hint of sadness in the drooping of their shoulders.

“People used to visit here a lot,” they said. “I would meet hundreds and hundreds of people, all coming here in their dreams. Every person that came here, every one I knew, was a star in the sky.”

Yuma sat upright, staring up at them as though they were telling him the most intriguing story.

“Where did everyone go?” he whispered.

Lua lowered their head.

“People forgot how to get here.”

“Eh? How do you forget?”

“People change.”

Yuma stared at the violet sand, deep in thought. Lua looked back up at the empty sky.

“Sometimes, someone like you appears. Kids your age find it easier to make it here. But it hasn't happened in a long time...”

“Lua-kun,” Yuma said, looking up. “Does that mean you've been here all alone?”

Lua ducked their head. But Yuma thought he could see the glint of a tear at the corner of those glowing lavender eyes.

“Lua-kun! Don't cry!”

Yuma jumped to his feet, leaning forward.

“Because I'll come here every night! Because I'll be your friend, Lua-kun! Then you won't be alone anymore! Ah! And everyone I meet, I can try to teach them how to come here, so then your sky can be all full of stars again! It will be really pretty, right?”

Lua smiled without looking up into Yuma's eager face, hair falling in front of their eyes.

“Thank you, Yuma-kun,” they said quietly.

Yuma jutted his chin out and clenched his fists in front of him.

“I will! I promise! You can believe me! I never break a promise! 'Specially not to a friend!”

And Lua had to laugh a little, finally looking up to meet Yuma's eyes.

“Thank you,” they said again, with more feeling. “Thank you, Yuma-kun. I really appreciate it.”

Yuma dropped to a sitting position beside Lua, his chatter filling up the normally silent, empty place. His words rolled over each other like water down a waterfall, talking about how he was going to introduce Lua to his friends from school and all of the games he liked to play that he would teach Lua about and all the stories he would have to tell about his dad's adventures, and oh, Duel Monsters, they could play Duel Monsters.

And Lua could only smile with a growing hollowness.

Because, no matter Yuma's good intentions, they knew it was not up to the young boy whether or not he returned. Those who came here so often forgot, when they woke up, that they had ever been here at all, much less remember the path to return.

So they simply smiled, closed their eyes, and enjoyed the sound of the boy's voice, and the feel of his company, for as long as it would last.

~~~~~~

They were not expecting to hear another sound. So when after an indeterminable yet obviously very short period of time they heard the small voice calling their name through the twilit realm, they almost fell over with the shock.

“Lua-kun!” Yuma's voice. “Lua-kun?”

The little boy turned in a circle at the sameness of the landscape, and could not see his friend in any direction.

“Lua-kun!” he called again, hands cupped around his mouth.

The sand swirled before him, upwards into a small whirlwind. It solidified and began to glow, and then, there was Lua.

“Lua-kun!”

Lua smiled, mouth open slightly with surprise.

“Yuma-kun,” they said. “You came back.”

“I said so!” Yuma said. “Look, look, look, I brought something with me today! Ta-da!”

He held up his hands to show Lua the stack of cards.

“They're Duel Monster cards! To-chan got some for me! He said he's going to teach me how to play!”

“Duel Monsters, huh?” Lua said, looking at the cards.

A growing spark of interest and delight was blooming in their glowing eyes. They looked up at Yuma again. It could have been a trick of the light gleaming from within them, but there seemed to be a hint of tears glittering at the edges of their eyes.

“You came back,” they said again.

“Uh-huh,” Yuma said, with a grin. “I can come back every night, if you want!”

Lua closed their eyes for a moment. The sigh that reverberated through them was one of such utter relief that it was as though the entire world was settling down.

“Oh,” they breathed, so very quietly that Yuma didn't hear. “It's you, isn't it...? I was waiting so long...”

Far above them in the sky, the single white star shone a tiny bit brighter. And right beside it, a small, incredibly bright red star winked into life...


	2. II

  _"Stars will fall/the sky will sigh/the Door remains/beyond end of time."_

_Path Song. Traditional._

* * *

 

Akari used to dream about her grandpa, after he had passed away. She had always found it strange how grandma didn't seem very sad. There hadn't been a coffin, or a funeral. Papa hadn't even cried, even though that was his own papa. It was more like he had just left, rather than died. In fact, that was how the Tsukumo family acted. Like grandpa was just on a trip for a while, and might be back someday. Akari might have thought that was the case if it wasn't for all the people telling her how sorry they were for her loss.

She had been seven, and Yuma was no more than a bulge in mother's belly. She remembered pressing her head to mother's belly to see if Yuma would kick, and then asking where grandpa had gone.

Her mother had simply smiled.

"Back where he belonged," was all she had said.

Akari had frowned, and returned to trying to listen for her little brother.

These thoughts flittered through her mind as she stood at the end of the path, the one that she recognized. Her first dreams had been when she was seven, right after grandpa had died. They had stopped some time ago, and she had thought that maybe, they had been only dreams.

But standing here, she wondered how she could have thought it was anything but real. She recognized the winding black stone of the crumbling path, the darkness that dripped on either sides of it, an abyss of air and ink. She recognized the glimmers of red lights that danced in the air before winking out, the barest hint of stars. There was no sky, or ceiling, either. That shouldn't have made sense, but to her, standing there, it did. The sky was a thing that did not exist in this world.

There was a horizon, though, a halo of soft light in a color she could not understand at the far end of the path. It outlined the wall, and the Door that stood at the end of the path, chaining the wall closed. The Door was a dragon's head, with burning, glowing eyes, and a keyhole between its nostrils that was big enough to fit both of her fists inside.

She didn't move from the path at first. It had been a long time since she had been here, she could remember. Somehow, she had forgotten about being here before. Was it because the memory of this place could not exist in the daylight? Or was it because she had written it off as a child's fantasy? Not that she was an adult now...she was only twelve, and mature enough to admit that she wasn't very old at all.

Grandpa sat on the steps leading up to the door. She could see the lanky, too long, too skinny frame, the waves of white hair that fell thick over shoulders and down the back, thick bangs completely covering eyes, the hint of wrinkles on a sharp face. Bony fingers resting on bony knees. But there was nothing intimidating about the figure. There was a relaxed sense to the position, a slumping of the shoulders and a tilt of the head that seemed less frightening, and more like that of an old man that was sitting on a rocking chair on the porch, ready to tell a story about the "good old days."

Grandpa was looking at her. She could tell, even though the eyes were covered with bangs.

"Hello," she said, softly. "Hello, jii-san."

Her grandfather smiled. It was that quiet, crinkly smile she remembered, the one that made the thin mouth look like just a fold in the face. One hand rose up and beckoned to her, to come down the path.

She did, picking her way down the winding and crumbling stone. She wasn't afraid of falling. She couldn't fall—not in grandpa's world. When she reached grandpa, she immediately threw her arms around bony shoulders and squeezed. Long arms wrapped around her like a protective shawl and she felt the soft sigh of breath against her hair.

"What's wrong?" she said next, as she stepped away from the hug.

"What makes you think something is wrong?"

"You stopped letting me come see you. But you did tonight. So something must be wrong."

A laugh. Breathy, more air than sound.

"Perhaps I simply missed you."

"I...I missed you too," she said. "I missed your stories."

She hesitated.

"But I know something must be wrong. Because you look sad."

"What makes me look sad?"

She could see the vague surprise in the rising of the shoulders.

"You're sitting on the steps. And you have your hands on your knees. And you're tapping your foot like you're trying to be cheerful. You always do that when you're telling a sad story."

Another soft, breathy laugh.

"You're a clever girl." A hand ruffled through her hair and she ducked her head, blushing. "You shouldn't worry...really, I only called you because I wanted to see how you were doing."

She glared, screwing up her face.

"I know that I'm just twelve," she said. "But I'm not dumb. You can talk to me about things, jii-san."

"And I will. Don't worry. If something is truly wrong, I will let you know. I'm simply...stressed out, I suppose."

A wide smile, one that actually showed a grin. Akari relaxed.

"Fine," she said, flopping down on the steps next to him. "But promise you'll tell me if things are wrong."

"I promise, dear one."

She leaned against the skinny frame, and an arm came around her shoulder to hold her gently.

"Kaa-san and to-chan keep leaving all the time. For longer and longer," she said.

"I know."

"Why do they need to do that? Or why can't they bring us with them at least?"

"I'm sure they wouldn't want you to miss too much school."

"Then why can't they stay?"

She glared up at her grandfather. Grandfather's eyes were hidden, as always, but she thought that she was meeting the gaze.

"Is that why you called me? You know what they're doing, don't you?"

Grandpa's head tilted away from hers.

"...yes."

Akari drew herself up and planted her hands on the step beside her.

"Tell me what's wrong," she demanded. "Jii-san—please. I'm getting...scared."

She bit her lip, trying to hold back sudden tears. Every month, it seemed, her mother and father disappeared, one or both of them, off on some quest. They couldn't stay still, grandma said, but Akari didn't think that was it. She had been checking their travel logs on the airfare service and they were going to the strangest places. As though they were looking for something.

"Jii-san," she said. Desperate. Voice choked. "Please."

Her grandfather did not look towards her.

Then her grandfather rose up on spindly legs and extended a hand to her.

"Follow me," he said. "I have to show you something."

Akari stared at the hand for a moment. Then she took it, gently at first, and then tightly, as though the other hand would disappeared.

Her grandfather stepped out into the darkness of the abyss. Stone grew to meet feet before they dropped into the abyss. Akari walked very close to her grandfather as they walked along, the path appearing with them and disappearing behind them, so that she wasn't sure how to get back without her grandfather, if she even could. The path didn't seem to exist until her grandfather needed it.

They walked into the darkness for a long time. Long enough that when Akari looked back, the Door was just a glowing smudge on the horizon.

And when she looked forward again, she could see light.

She sucked in a breath. Oh...oh it was...beautiful.

Twin swirling galaxies, hanging in the air before her. She felt like she could reach out and take one of those stars, but she knew she couldn't. They were far, far away, a glowing stain on the darkness—how had she never seen them before?

One pulsed a soft white blue, swirling outward with glimmers of rainbow lights scattered among the white. The other was a warm, rippling red, seemingly spiraling inward instead, with dots of black dancing around like planets among its movement.

Her hands reached out in spite of herself, pretending to cup the universes in both hands.

"It's beautiful," she said.

Her grandfather's hand rested on her shoulder and then tightened softly.

"It's wrong."

She blinked, and looked up. Those covered eyes stared out at the pair of worlds.

"Look closer, Akari."

Akari turned to face them again, staring. She squinted, trying to see what her grandfather was talking about.

And then she felt something creep into her stomach, like she was going to be sick.

"It's ripped," she said. "Why is it ripped?"

She could see a ripped edge between the two worlds, like a shattered mirror, fracturing the stars between them. There was something about the way that they were moving towards each other, pressing on that wound in the sky, as though it were sending more cracks through the worlds.

"I wasn't supposed to show you this," her grandfather said. "I wasn't supposed to see you again."

Knelt down on long legs in front of her, gripping her shoulders so that she could, for a moment, she thought, see the eyes underneath.

"But you deserve to know. You deserve to know what has happened. How we failed."

A faint brushing of lips against her forehead. It felt dry, papery, like the lips were made of parchment.

"You have hell in front of you, and it's only just beginning."

Lips turned into the barest frown.

"I'm sorry. We should not have put this on the shoulders of our children."

"I don't...understand."

And then they were standing in front of the Door again, and her grandfather was standing up, turning towards the giant monolith. She couldn't move. But her hand reached out towards her grandfather's back.

"Wait..."

"He will come here...soon. Soon for me, at least, you might...have a few years yet. But it will happen, and you deserve to know what is going to happen, even if it is against the rules. Things are already starting."

Her grandfather ascended the steps, but hesitated in front of the door. Turned around to face her again. This time, she could see his eyes: pure black, full black, with more than one hint of an ember spark glowing in their depths.

"I believe that he will need more than his own strength...and I believe that you can give that to him."

"Jii-san," she said. "Wait, please, I don't understand..."

"I'm sorry, but this is all I can give you."

A faint smile.

"I love you, Akari...I'm sorry. I hope we can meet again."

Akari managed a step forward as her grandfather turned away again.

"Wait!" she cried. "W-where does that Door go?"

A question she had asked, every single time, every time she had been here.

She already knew what answer she would be given.

"Depends on where you need to go."

And then she was waking up, gasping and struggling for breath as she fought the covers twisted around her chest. She stopped struggling for a moment, and just laid there, breathing, staring at her ceiling.

Had it been just a dream? Like the others?

She could feel the coolness of that unnatural darkness on her skin.

Somehow, she knew it wasn't a dream.

_Dammit, grandpa._


	3. III

 

 

_“We are falling. The walls cannot hold much longer, not against the pure essence of chaos. We need a weapon. We need something to protect ourselves. Have the gods forsaken us?”_

_ln 23, page 9, Astral Project Journal 2_

* * *

He did not like the man that kept visiting father, but he wasn't sure he really had a say in it.

Kaito peered around the door and down the hallway, squinting at the sound of the voices. This was the third time this week the man had visited—who was he? Some kind of businessman? A weird one, judging by his bright green suit and stupid red glasses.

Behind him, he could hear soft giggles and a light hum.

“Kaito,” she called. “Come back over here. Haruto wants to play with you.”

Kaito frowned as he pulled the door closed and turned towards his mother.

The room was a big one, stretching all the way back to the wood paneled walls and the windows with the rich red curtains drawn against the cool spring evening. A fire had been lit in the grate and its light tinted everything orange—the long couch opposite the fireplace, the coffee table in front of that, the paintings of fruit and flowers hanging on the walls, even the scattering of baby toys that littered the plush, emerald carpet.

His mother sat cross-legged on the floor, the fire sending shards of orange scattering through her pale hair, the same silvery-blue as Haruto's. It struck a pale contrast to the soft, velvety tan of her skin. The bangs fell lightly over her eyes, almost obscuring them completely from sight. The shadows from the firelight cast them fully into shadow. She smiled that soft smile of hers as she swung Haruto's arms slowly back and forth, humming a little tune for the one year old as he wobbled unevenly on his chubby legs. His eyes were bright and a huge smile was plastered across his round face.

Kaito padded back over to the pair and dropped to a sitting position, flopping his head into his hand.

“I don't like him,” he said. “He makes me uncomfortable.”

“Haruto, or Mr. Heartland?” his mother asked, without looking up.

“Mr. Heartland, not Haruto! Geez, mom...”

His mother pressed her lips together and hummed once, like she did when she was deciding whether she should lecture or not.

“Who is he, anyway?” Kaito said. “And why does he keep coming around??”

His mother shrugged, looking unconcerned. She never seemed concerned with what her husband was doing. “Let him alone, he knows what he's doing,” she always said.

“It's your father's business who he deals with. It's your business to play with Haruto.”

Haruto's eyes had lit up when he saw Kaito sit down, and he wobbled forward a few steps while leaning on his mother's hands. His arms bobbed up and down, reaching towards Kaito.

Kaito reached out almost automatically to catch Haruto as he took one or two free steps forward and then tumbled. The boy landed heavily against Kaito's chest and Kaito oofed.

“Ugh, he's so heavy,” he complained. “Haruto, you're drooling all over me...”

His mother leaned back on one hand, placing the other on her knees. A tiny smile spread over her lips. With the firelight at her back, she looked for a moment ethereal. Her hair shimmering ghost-like, her skin warmed by light, her clouded eyes almost glowing of their own accord. But it was only the reflection of the overhead lights sparkling across her dark eyes. Still, even that looked like a scattering of stars in the depths of space.

Kaito fumbled with Haruto for a moment, settling him into his lap. Haruto immediately began sucking on his fingers, and gripping at Kaito's hand with the other hand. Kaito winced. He had a tight grip for such a little person. Kaito wrapped his free arm around Haruto and sighed. There was something comforting about holding his little brother. Maybe it was just because he was so warm.

Haruto stopped sucking on his fingers and looked up at Kaito with his big, unblinking eyes. He poked Kaito on the cheek—with one of the fingers he had been sucking on.

“Eeww,” he said. “Haruto, don't do that.”

Haruto poked him again. Kaito pushed his hand away. A smile burst over Haruto's face and he tried to poke Kaito again. Apparently, this was a game, now. Well, Kaito wasn't going to lose. He pinched lightly under Haruto's ribs and started to tickle him. Haruto's fingers dropped from trying to poke him as the laughs started rolling out of him. He wriggled out of Haruto's grip and crawled quickly away towards the scattering of toys all over the floor.

“Where are you going?” Kaito said, grinning. “I'm going to catch you!”

Kaito pushed to his feet. He easily overtook Haruto despite what a fast crawler he was, scooping him up under the arms and swooping him up. Haruto squealed with laughter, wriggling his arms and legs. Kaito hadn't really been expecting that, though, and he yelped, losing his balance.

They both tumbled to the ground and Kaito lost the breath in his lungs as Haruto landed on his chest. He laid there for a moment, gasping. At the very least, Haruto didn't move either, sitting still and staring at Kaito with that wide-eyed look that only babies can have.

“Sounds like you two are having fun,” their mother called from where she sat. She hadn't turned around, not that there was a reason for her to.

“Sort of,” Kaito said, letting out another groan. “Geez, you really are heavy, Haruto...”

He managed to sit back up, still holding Haruto against him. Haruto poked him in the cheek and giggled. Kaito couldn't help but smile.

“Little troublemaker,” he said, briefly nuzzling his head against Haruto's.

The door opened, and Kaito turned over his shoulder. His father appeared with a sigh, closing the door behind him.

“That man gets more obnoxious every day,” he grumbled. The lines on his face seemed to melt away, however, as he saw his family. Kaito's mother rose at the sound of his voice, gasping softly as her back cracked. His father quickly tossed his stack of files onto an end table by the door and hurried over to her. His hand slipped under her arm to support her, but she only chuckled.

“I'm blind, not lame,” she said. Her hand felt out briefly to find his face, and then she leaned over to kiss him lightly on the cheek. He smiled, but he didn't let go of her arm.

“What, I can't hold you just because I want to?” he laughed. He slipped his arm around her waist and returned her kiss with one to her forehead. She only chuckled softly, her fingers quickly smoothing down the cowlicks in his otherwise slicked back blond hair.

Their father looked over their mother's shoulder to look at the two boys, and he smiled.

“I see you two are getting along,” he said.

“Mostly I'm getting drooled on,” said Kaito as Haruto squirmed in his arms, trying to get up so that he could run over to their father.

“Same thing,” his mother said, drawing a brief bark of laughter from his father.

Haruto tumbled from Kaito's arms and crawled towards the pair of them. Their father swooped down to meet the little rocket, scooping him up and onto his shoulder with a roar of laughter.

“There we are,” his father laughed. “Like the view up here, Haruto?”

Haruto laughed as a response, kicking his legs and arms with a fit of excitement. Kaito rolled himself up to his feet as his father shifted Haruto into his arms more firmly. He shook Haruto's tiny hands. He was trying to encourage Haruto to say “dada” in a weirdly sweet voice that made Kaito feel embarrassed as Kaito walked over to the two of them. Haruto responded by patting his father on the side of the face and giggling.

“I don't know, I feel like he should have been saying words by now,” their father said. “Do you think something might be wrong? He's all right, isn't he? Come on, Haruto, say dada?”

“Oh, he's fine,” their mother said, rolling her eyes. “You worry too much.”

She seemed to hear Kaito approach, because her hand found his very quickly. Her hand found its way up to his shoulder so that she could briefly hug him to her.

“Kaa-san, stop,” Kaito mumbled. “I'm too old for that.”

“Ten is too old to be hugged by your mother? Well, I suppose I'm simply ancient then.”

She hugged him again despite his protests, this time twisting him gently towards him so that she could hug him with both arms. He complained a little, but he didn't try to get out of it. After a beat he hugged her back, sighing deeply. Nowhere had ever felt as safe as right here, in his mother's arms. They felt like...wings, encircling him, encasing him in protection.

They stood there for a moment. Mother never went halfway when it came to hugs. Kaito heard his father moving over towards the couch with Haruto, still trying to get him to repeat something.

“You're good with Haruto,” she whispered into Kaito's ear. “Thank you for taking such good care of your brother.”

“Well...yeah,” Kaito said. “That's what I'm supposed to do, right?”

She drew back from him. Her hands remained on his shoulders for a moment, and even though he knew that she wasn't really looking at him, he felt, for a moment, that she was staring right down into his soul.

“Do you promise me that you'll keep taking care of him?”

Kaito blinked. For some reason...the words sent a shiver down his spine.

“Of course,” he said, after a beat. “Why wouldn't I?”

His mother's smile was warm, gentle. She squeezed his shoulder.

“You're a good boy, Kaito,” she said. “What did I do to be so lucky with the two of you?”

Kaito felt himself blushing, the heat wrapping around to the back of his neck.

“Everyone, sh, sh, sh!” his father said suddenly. “Haruto's trying to say something! He's going to say his first word!”

Kaito turned around and his mother's hands dropped from his shoulders. Haruto's mouth was certainly flapping open and closed, but Kaito was pretty sure his father was just getting worked up over nothing again—

“K-” Haruto said. “K-Ka-Kai. Kai.”

Kaito jumped. Was—was that—his name? Was Haruto trying to say his name? His little hands wiggled up and down towards Kaito, his eyes shining and a big smile on his face.

“Kai. Kai,” he said again, repeating the sound over and over.

Behind Kaito, his mother let out one of her deep, bellowing laughs.

“You owe me one thousand yen,” she called across to Kaito's father, whose eyes were wide as Haruto kept repeating “Kai” over and over. “I called it.”

She nudged Kaito in the back.

“Well, go on,” she said. “He's asking for you.”

Kaito startled out of his momentary shock. Haruto was, indeed, still stretching his hands towards Kaito. He blinked once, and then found his blush getting even worse.

“Haruto, you're embarrassing, too,” he muttered as he padded over to his little brother and accepted the big hug that Haruto was so insistent on giving him.

It really was a comforting feeling, he thought again, to hug his little brother.


	4. IV

 

 

_“A single drop of blood dripped from that heart, and the ripples it made across the light and the darkness caused a dragon to grow around the heart, encasing it.”_

_the Heartbeat Cycle. Author unknown._

* * *

Yuma was pouting again.

“I lost again yesterday,” he said, slumping into the sand crosslegged and folding his arms tightly.

Lua's lips quirked into a half smile.

“Keep trying, Yuma-kun. You get better every day, you know.”

Yuma nodded, but didn't stop pouting. With a bigger smile, Lua sat down beside him, and Yuma fell back against them so that his head was leaning against Lua's chest, as he was accustomed to doing.

“But I beat my time running to school!” he said, sounding more cheerful. “I even got there before Kotori-chan!”

“Ah, good job, Yuma-kun!”

“I should bring Kotori-chan to meet you! You'd like her a lot. She's really smart. But she's nagging me a lot.”

Yuma frowned at that. Lua laughed softly, and tickled him gently at his waist, making Yuma curl up and giggle.

“Sometimes I think you need someone to do that for you,” they teased. “How many times have you bruised your knees trying to run down the stairs again?”

“I have to kattobing!” Yuma said, waving his arms around a bit. “I have to keep doing kattobing, so that I can go with to-chan on an adventure! He said he'll take me to the mountains someday! I want to see the mountains.”

Lua's laugh was soft, but not teasing, and Yuma blushed. He let his arms fall to his sides and stared up at the sky.

“Lua-kun? Have you ever seen mountains before?”

“Hmm? Mountains?”

The realm around them was silent, save for the sand that shifting and twirled gently in a silvery breeze.

“Yes. I have...I think I lived among them during one of my lives...”

“What about the ocean? Or a forest?”

“Yes, I've seen those things before...in other lives. Why do you ask?”

Yuma didn't answer. He just lay there, his head back against his friend's chest.

“It's really quiet here,” Yuma said. “I just thought...maybe you get bored. Or lonely. Because it's really quiet...”

Lua drew in a breath.

For a moment, it felt as though the twilight colors were suffocating. All of it, all the same colors, the same scenery, everything always the same, always empty, always cold —

They found that they were almost choking on unwept tears.

“Lua-kun?”

Yuma stared up at him, upside down. Lua swallowed.

“I'm...fine.”

They had to close their eyes for a moment. When they opened their eyes again, they brought out the biggest smile they could muster.

“I'm not lonely anymore, Yuma-kun. Because you're my friend.”

Yuma half smiled at that, but the boy didn't look completely convinced. He wriggled up off of Lua's lap and sat cross-legged on the ground again. For a moment, they just sat there in the silence, hearing the faint breeze drag sand across the landscape into shifting dunes, watching the floating glimmers bob gently in the air.

“Can I make an ocean?” Yuma said suddenly.

“What?”

“I want to make an ocean.”

Lua just stared at him for a moment. The words did not fully sink in.

“What do you mean?” they asked.

Yuma scrambled to his feet, almost slipping on the sand and falling back down again.

“I can make stuff here, see? Cause it's a dream, and you can do stuff in dreams! Look, look!”

He stared at the sand for a moment, his nose wrinkling up and his cheeks going a bit red. Lua almost snorted at the funny look, so concentrated, not at all like Yuma's normal open, always smiling face. The look didn't really suit him —

And then the sand swirled a bit, and there was a coin laying on the ground.

“See!” Yuma said, picking it up and showing it to them.

Lua's mouth nearly fell open. They stared at the coin. Slowly, slowly, the accepted the small, golden circle from Yuma. It gleamed in the palm of their hand. A lion's face growled out at them from the coin's side.

“How did you do this, Yuma-kun?” asked Lua, turning the coin over in their hand.

“Cause it's a dream! I can do things like that!”

Lua had to look up at him. Into the wide, shining crimson eyes of this boy, so full of hope and joy and cheer and happiness and friendliness —

Their breath caught in their throat. Oh. Oh. Oh.

They had thought so, but they hadn't...part of them hadn't wanted to...

It was Yuma, wasn't it?

“So I want to make an ocean for you,” Yuma said, oblivious to Lua's sudden quietness. “Because oceans sounds nice! Then it won't be so quiet here...and it will look pretty! But I don't want to do it without asking. Because this is your home, right?”

Despite the revelation growing in their mind, Lua could feel it—the familiar feeling growing in their chest for the first time in ages. It was light, soft, it felt like hot chocolate and kittens and warm spring days and all of the beautiful things that they had not gotten the chance to experience in so very, very long.

Lua closed their eyes. A single tear managed to find its way down their cheek. The world was cruel sometimes, wasn't it?

“Thank you,” they whispered.

“Huh?” Yuma said. “Thanks for what? I didn't do anything yet.”

Lua opened their eyes. They stood up and stepped forward so that they could put their hands on Yuma's shoulders.

“Yes,” they said. “I would love to see an ocean again.”

Yuma's entire face lit up.

“Okay!!” he said. “Just watch, I'll make a really pretty one! Oh! And then maybe I can make a forest—and some mountains—and everything will be really nice just wait!”

Another tear rolled down Lua's cheeks as they stepped back and watched Yuma hop forward to stare at the sand again. There was only silence for a while.

And then a rush of wind blasted past both figures, hot and salty and rough. A whistling sound accompanied the sudden growing dark stain that shot out from just in front of Yuma's feet. The darkness unrolled from that point all the way towards the horizon—like a carpet unfolding across the floor. For a moment, it was only a long, dark shadow. And then it deepened and turned to a dark, dark shade of purple to rival the sky above.

Sloosh...sloosh...

The sound sent a pleasant shudder through Lua's small, crystalline frame. It was an ocean sound, the waves sloshing in and out, in and out, in and out....

It was, Lua thought, the most beautiful thing they had ever seen.

The ocean stretched out to the horizon, where it almost seemed to blend directly into the sky. It was a deep violet in color, with lavender foam at the peaks of the far out waves. Nebulas of color, mostly blue and green, swirled within the water itself, and the glimmers of the air seemed to have been mixed directly into the sea, so that there were stars in the ocean.

Yuma plopped down to his backside at the foot of the water

“I tried to make it blue,” he said, actually pouting. “Sorry, Lua-kun.”

“Sorry?” Lua said, incredulous.

They crouched down next to Yuma, putting their hand on his shoulder and squeezing. They were trying so hard to keep in the tears.

“It's beautiful,” they said. “Thank you.”

Yuma blinked. He smiled hesitantly—and then bright and wide and shining like the way he did, all of his emotions spilling out all at once. Just that would have been enough.

This would have been enough...

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all.

 

* * *

The pair sat at the edge of the ocean on Yuma's next visit. The boy had already tired himself out running back and forth into the foam, squealing with delight at how the water was the perfect temperature, just barely warm. He had amused himself for hours tossing the water into the air and watching the stars and nebulae hang in the air for a few moments before they fizzled out in a spray of watery sparks. Yuma had even pulled Lua into the water and taught them a game called “Marco Polo.”

The tired young boy was laying against Lua's chest again, a grin permanently plastered to his face. Lua smiled down at him, holding him in a light embrace.

“Do you like the ocean?” Yuma asked, looking up.

“I love it.”

Yuma smiled, looking very, very pleased with himself.

“Can I make a forest next?”

“You look tired. We can wait until tomorrow night.”

“Kay.”

The ocean sloshed in and out. Quiet. Soothing. Lua had to close their eyes just to enjoy the lovely sound. How long had it been? They could remember living beside an ocean, but none had been so soothing as this one.

“Eh? There's more stars,” Yuma said suddenly.

And there were—many more than the little boy remembered. There was a quartet of stars just beneath the little red one and the larger white one. A little farther away was a flickering star like a faraway candle-flame, vaguely emerald in shade. And there were more, too, in different colors, scattered across the sky. As though someone had dropped a pinch of glitter.

“Did other people come and leave their stars?” he asked.

Lua shook their head.

“No, Yuma-kun. I put them up there for you.”

“For me?”

“Mm-hm. Look.”

They leaned their head down next to Yuma's and pointed at the sky.

“See those four? Two of those are your parents' stars, and below that, your grandma and your sister. You've told me so much about them. I think their stars should be here too.”

They moved their finger across the sky.

“That one is your friend Kotori. And that one is your teacher that you always talk about.”

Yuma's eyes widened as Lua pointed out each of the stars, naming another friend, acquaintance, family member that Yuma knew.

“Why did you put my friends up there?” Yuma asked.

He squirmed out of Lua's light hold and sat up to face his friend.

“You haven't met them yet, but you gave them stars in your world?”

Lua smiled, eyes glowing with a secure warmth.

“If they're your friends,” they said. “Then they are my friends too.”

Yuma stared up at them with his wide, crimson eyes.

“And it's not just my world anymore, Yuma-kun,” Lua continued. “It's yours too.”

“Huh? Really?”

“Mm-hm. Because you made this beautiful ocean. This world is for both of us, Yuma-kun. And I'm so happy that I can share it with you.”

They wrapped their hands around Yuma's. Yuma's hands were so warm. Living and solid. Not like Lua's strange, vaguely see through hands, that were neither warm nor cold, but simply there.

“These are our stars now,” they said. “They belong to both of us.”

Yuma's eyes widened further. The smile that then grew across his face was so bright that it could have rivaled a sun.

“And I'm glad I got to be your friend, Lua-kun!” he said.

And with that, he jumped forward to hug the taller figure. Lua squeezed him back—the feeling of another solid body was just as soothing to them as the sound of the ocean. So long, they had been alone here, their last human life feeling so, so far away.

They hid their tears in Yuma's hair.

After all this time, they weren't alone.

But what was the cost of that?

_I'm sorry, Yuma-kun._


	5. V

 

  
_“The path winds ever on and on/betwixt the black abyss and white/leading from eternal fight/to future oneness long forgot.”_

_-Path Song. Traditional._

* * *

 

Akari blew out through her lips, flicking through the latest news on her D-Gazer. Why was she even here again? This was her day off of school, and yet here she was, sitting with a gaggle of giggling parents who were waving to their kids at their desks and having far too much fun at an elementary school to really be adults.

It was visiting day at Yuma's school. Her mom and dad had been so incredibly excited, chattering incessantly at Yuma over the breakfast table about what they were most excited to see, and Yuma was just absolutely obnoxiously ecstatic, almost knocking over his juice more than once as he gestured hugely about how much he was going to kattobing for them. Geez. That weird word again. What was up with this family's obsession with 'kattobing?'

There were so many kids chattering and buzzing with excitement, sitting up in their seats to wave at parents standing in the back. The teacher kept shushing them and trying to get them to pay attention to the show and tell, but it wasn't really working. They were all too excited.

Yuma was, of course, one of the most excited, practically shaking back and forth in his seat, constantly looking back over his shoulder to smile as big as he could at his parents, sister, and grandma. Geez, they probably had the biggest group here for one kid, what was with this family?

Akari really couldn't help but smile, though...her brother's smile was just so huge and shining.

Send me some of that enthusiasm for things, won't you? she thought. I could use it...

“Tsukumo-kun, it's your turn,” the teacher called.

Yuma sprang up out of his seat like a loaded rocket. He turned over his shoulder to wave frantically at his family with one arm (the other was occupied holding his sketchbook), as though they might miss him if he didn't catch their attention. Their father grinned widely and swung his arm in a huge wave back, causing a few people behind him to jump and glare. Akari flushed and did not wave back to Yuma.

Yuma kept waving as he walked to the front—and promptly tripped and fell on his face.

The whole classroom burst into laughter. Akari could see little Mizuki Kotori, Yuma's friend, groaning and laying her head down on her desk in exasperation at Yuma's antics.

I feel ya, kid, Akari thought.

Yuma scrambled back to his feet. His face was as red as his bangs as he brushed off his knees, clutching his sketchbook to his chest. He looked desperately over the snickering kids for some support. He got it in the form of a pair of thumb's up from his mother, and his smile returned, albeit a little smaller. Akari folded her arms and settled in. She didn't really know what Yuma was going to talk about. What was in the sketchbook? She had seen him doodling in it a lot but he always hid it before she could see what he was drawing. It was a surprise, he said.

Yuma cleared his throat.

“Hi! I'm Tsukumo Yuma, and I'm seven!” he announced. “For show and tell I'm going to tell you about my friend Lua-kun!”

He fumbled with the book in his arms for a moment, trying to pull it open.

“I couldn't take any pictures of us, so I drew some instead...”

“Are you talking about your magic fairy boyfriend?” someone in the second row shouted.

Akari's eyes snapped to the boy in question. A beefy sort of kid with a square jaw and beady eyes. She didn't like the look of him. And she didn't like the way that Yuma's shoulder drew up around his ears when he looked at him. A defensive position. Akari felt her fingers twitching up into fists instinctively.

“Lua-kun is not a boy,” Yuma said. “And they're not a fairy either.”

He returned to his sketchbook and peeled the pages open to a scribbled drawing made almost entirely out of different shades of purple.

“Lua-kun is a dream spirit who lives in the Dream World. I can only go see them when I'm sleeping.”

Akari blinked. Oh. Oooh. This was Yuma's little dream friend that he liked to talk about sometimes, wasn't it? Sometimes it would come up over the dinner table. “Lua-kun said...” “Lua-kun thinks...” An imaginary friend. Akari wondered if this was okay for show and tell, but the teacher seemed pleased with the effort that Yuma had put into his drawing, because she was smiling and nodding at him.

“That sounds like a fairy to me!” the big boy shouted.

“Kenji-kun!” the teacher snapped. “Be quiet and listen!”

“If Lua isn't a boy, does that make Lua a girl?” one of the girls next to Kotori asked.

“Yeah, is she your girlfriend?” Kenji called.

“Lua isn't a boy or a girl!” Yuma said. “They told me about that kind of thing! Sometimes you're not either, and Lua isn't one!”

But his smile was slipping and he looked like he was starting to fold inwards on himself. Akari's fingers were rolling up into tight fists, and she glared at the back of Kenji's head. Yuma didn't like to talk about school sometimes, especially when Akari asked him about what he did after school. Was this the reason why?

Keep your meaty hands off my brother, you little snot.

“Go on, Yuma,” the teacher said encouragingly. “You still have some time to talk.”

Yuma looked up towards his family, eyes searching all of them. He looked nervous all of a sudden.

Their father, of course, winked and sent a huge thumb's up. Their mother nodded and smiled, and grandma even sent a peace sign. Akari found herself giving him a pair of thumb's up too, smiling at him. Anything to get that kid off his back.

“L-Lua-kun lives in the Dream World,” Yuma said again. “It's a magic place! Since it's a dream you can do just about anything, so Lua-kun and I made a bunch of things. This is the Galaxy Ocean that I made!”

He pointed to a darker spot of purple beside the scribbled stick figures. One of them was clearly himself, with the bright red bangs, but the other was just a strange, pale lavender sort of color that seemed to glow against the rest of the scenery.

“You can't make an ocean, stupid,” Kenji said.

“You can in the Dream World, cause it's a dream!” said Yuma, face scrunching up.

“Kenji-kun! Be quiet!” Yuma's teacher snapped. “Sit and listen like you're supposed to!”

Kenji glowered at Yuma and Yuma glowered back. Akari found herself cracking her knuckles almost without thinking.

You wanna fight, kid? She thought at Kenji. Because you're asking for a fight.

Yuma fumbled with the pages of his notebook again and showed another page. This one was made of lighter purples, and had little dots of other colors scattered around it, with a darker stain in the scribbled form of trees at the back.

“And this is the Deep Woods and the Butterfly Meadow!” he said. “We made a Twilight Garden inside the Deep Woods too! It has a really high wall with vines growing on it and a big gate, and inside, there are lots of trees that grow all bendy and they have glowing blue fruit that tastes like anything you want it to! The garden is Lua-kun's favorite.”

Kenji leaned forward in his desk.

“That's stupid! You made a stupid girly garden!”

Yuma drew himself up, shaking slightly.

“There's nothing wrong with girls,” he said. “Do you think there's something wrong with girls??”

Atta boy, Akari thought, a smile breaking across her face and pride swelling in her chest despite herself.

“Boys don't make gardens!”

“Yes they do!”

“Sato Kenji, for the love of—be quiet,” the teacher said. Her hazel eyes snapped over the crowd of parents as though searching for Kenji's, probably to try and convince them to get their kid to stop being a little shit.

Yuma let out a breath and flipped to the next page.

“And this is me and Lua-kun in the Butterfly Meadow. You can see the mountains in the back! We climbed up those together and I left a coin at the top to show we were there!”

Akari had to glance at her dad for that. He had a twinkle in his eye and that wide, deep smile of his on his face, the one that made his whole face crunch up with joy. She smiled slightly herself, settling back to watch Yuma.

“Lua-kun teaches me lots of stuff! They know about all the different worlds and they tell me all about them! Someday, I'm gonna go visit all of them!”

A few kids laughed at this, but Yuma was busy staring right at his family, and Akari was kind of getting into this so she made sure to send him another thumb's up. He was able to finish his show-and-tell without much more interruption besides the normal chatter and buzz of the excited students.

“Thank you, Yuma-kun,” his teacher said, her eyes crinkling with her smile. “Chihiro-chan, you're next...”

Yuma hugged his sketchbook to his chest as he walked back to his seat, grinning at his family. Akari sent him the biggest smile she could muster—okay, so yeah, this was kind of a silly thing, but Yuma was happy, and his happy was infectious.

And then her smile dropped as she saw Kenji's foot snap out across the aisle and she stepped forward but not fast enough and Yuma yelped as his foot caught in Kenji's and he went tumbling face first to the ground.

The students roared with laughter again.

“Didn't your fairy boyfriend teach you how to walk?” Kenji said with a huge, belly roaring laugh.

The world seemed to stand still for a moment.

Sprawled in the middle of the cafeteria, rolling up into a ball, clutching hands over her ears to try and block the milk carton being flung at her head and block out the sounds of shouting and laughing and now they were throwing pieces of their vegetables and she couldn't move she was too scared to get up why had she ever picked up that goddamn card game—

The blood roared in Akari's ears as she stood straight up, stepping forward, hands curled into fists—she was ready to physically punch this child in the face. But then Yuma launched himself from the floor at Kenji. The other boy tumbled out of his chair with a tiny squeak and then both of them were rolling around on the floor, throwing their tiny fists at any part of the other that they could reach.

The class exploded. Kids were jumping out of their chairs and onto desks to see what was going on—shouts rang as a few kids started a “fight, fight, fight” chant. The teacher tried to wade through the crowd of kids, shouting over them. Kenji's mother—a skinny, sharp chinned women—pushed through the parents to start screaming at Akari's mom, who immediately turned on the woman with that ice cold stare of hers that could literally stop a tiger in its tracks. Kotori had leaped from her seat and tried to run back towards Yuma but was blocked by the ring of kids and left to simply shout uselessly into the commotion at Yuma to “please, stop, Yuma, it's not worth it—”

Akari darted out in front of her father. She wove around the kids with an ease taken from spending hours navigating the city streets, and grabbed Kenji by the collar to pull him away from her brother.

Yuma's eye was starting to swell up already and he tried to launch himself at Kenji again but Akari put a hand on his chest and held him back.

“I think you got him,” she said. “I think you got him.”

Yuma's eyes were full of tears and he had a bruise forming on his cheek as Akari let go of Kenji. Kenji looked like he was whimpering a bit too, stepping back as though he were dizzy, and his mother swooped in to grab him up in her arms and whisper soothing things to him.

“I don't believe this, both of you!” the teacher was saying over and over. “Should know better—can't believe—”

Yuma threw himself at Akari, burying his face in her chest.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I'm sorry.”

Akari just stroked his hair, humming softly under her breath. She looked over his head to see her parents. They were watching her, her mother with a small smile on her face, and her father with that vague twinkle in his eye. If you didn't know him, you wouldn't know that he was pleased with how that had turned out.

“Both of you, in the hall, I'll talk to you later,” the teacher said. “I'm so terribly sorry everyone, I don't know what came over them...”

Yuma pulled abruptly away from Akari and marched out into the hall as he was told, his arms swinging a little too widely. Akari sat there for a moment to watch him go. She felt a tightness in her throat.

Her eyes dropped down to the floor. The sketchbook was still lying there, open on the ground. She reached for it, drew it up. Flicked through a few of the pages.

“You really like purple, huh?” she murmured.

Her eyes fell on the lavender figure beside the stick figure of Yuma.

So you're Lua, huh...?

* * *

Akari knocked on the trap door over her head.

“Yuma? You up?”

She heard the clomp of feet jumping off of the hammock and the patter of Yuma running over to the door. He pulled it open and peeked down at her. She felt something tighten inside of her at the sight of his swelled up eye.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

“What's the password?” he said.

“Conqueror,” she said automatically.

He grinned at her and tried to make a cross eyed face.

“That was yesterday's password, nee-chan. You need a new one.”

“Oh, really? And how do I get the new one?”

“You gotta guess.”

Akari grinned at him deviously.

“Ooooor,” she said. “I could just...”

And she reached up to tickle him under the ribs. He squealed, falling backwards into his room, and she came up the rest of the stairs so that she could still reach him, pushing through the hole in the floor.

“T-that's cheating, nee-chan! That's cheating!” Yuma giggled, rolling back and forth on the ground.

“That's how siege works, kiddo,” she said, giving him one last tickle. “Gotta be more careful who you open the door to.”

She stopped tickling him and he just laid there for a moment, giggling, tiny tears in the corners of his eyes from laughing. She laid her chest across the floor beside him, still standing on the stairs. She rested her head on her hand.

“How's your eye?” she asked, once his laughs had died down.

“I can't see very well,” he said.

“Yeah, that's normal. Did you use the ice?”

“Uh-huh.”

She nodded. Her eyes wandered around the little attic room. Sometimes, she didn't understand why anyone would want to live up here. It was small, it was dusty, and he was cramped. Yuma had a bedroom, on the floor just below this room. But then, some days, she realized that the things that she wouldn't have liked about it were the reasons why Yuma loved it. It was a mysterious place. Packed with all the artifacts from mom and dad's adventures. Ancient Aztec masks, small totems and statues, pieces of jewelry on stands. It smelled of adventures and far off places. It was a secret hideaway just for him. She guessed if she was his age, she'd still be enamored by the place too...but they had moved here after Yuma was born, so she really hadn't been interested by then.

She looked back to Yuma. He had sat up by now, cross legged with his hands on his ankles.

“Does anything hurt too much?” she asked.

Yuma shook his head. She frowned, somehow getting the idea that he was lying.

“Yuma...does that Kenji kid bother you a lot?”

Yuma's head ducked down immediately. Akari's lips pressed together as she remembered....things she didn't want to remember about elementary school.

“Yuma...it's okay. You don't have to be scared of talking to us, you know. If you don't want to talk to me, you can talk to mom, or dad, or grandma even.”

“It's okay,” Yuma said. “It's really okay. I'm okay.”

Akari frowned. She hefted herself up from the stairs so that she was sitting with her legs dangling out the trap door. Then she put her arm around Yuma and pulled him beside her.

“It doesn't have to be okay,” she said quietly. “It's okay to not be okay.”

Yuma stiffened at first. And then he relaxed, and his shoulder shook slightly.

“He...he's a bully,” he mumbled. “I dueled him once and he beat me. And he won't stop saying that he beat me.”

Akari tightened her grip on his shoulder.

“He makes me duel him when I'm dueling Tetsuo. And when we duel he says that if he wins I have to do things. And if I don't do the things then he pushes me a lot.”

“Why didn't you say anything?” Akari whispered. “Don't you think your family wants to help?”

Yuma shivered.

“I told him I was gonna tell,” he said. “But he said that if I told that everyone would think I was a scaredy cat.”

Akari shook her head.

“Telling isn't being scared,” she said. “Talking to people is a strong thing. You did a really courageous thing when you told me.....and when you punched him in the face. That was pretty great.”

Yuma looked up at her, and she smiled. He smiled tentatively. Then he sighed and buried his face into her side, and she tightened her arm around him.

“He's not going to bother you ever again,” she said. “And if he does...you send him my way. Got it?”

“Kay.”

She smiled at him, patting him on the head. Then she glanced around the floor, noticing all the sheets of paper and crayons, mostly shades of purple like usual.

“Still drawing the Dream World?” she asked.

“Uh-huh,” he said, without moving from her grip. “It was a surprise for show and tell day. But now I can show everyone all about it all the time.”

Akari smiled, reaching for one of the pictures and glancing over it. She frowned. This didn't look like the purple landscapes like the others. This one was just a mass of red scribbles. It looked like it might have a shape but...

“What's this one, Yuma?” she asked, turning it towards him.

Yuma peeked up from her. His eyes narrowed to little slits and he shivered deeply.

“That's a nightmare,” he said.

And he buried his face into her side again, as though she were a shield from the thing that scared him. She looked down at the scribble of red again, frowning.

It was just a scribble of crayon on a sheet of paper. Just the fanciful imagination of a child.

But she couldn't help but feel an odd shiver creep down her own spine too...

* * *

She wiped off the last of the dishes and put them back into the cabinet.

“Thanks for helping out, Akari,” her mother said, smiling as she undid her ponytail, letting the orange hair fall thick around her shoulders.

“No problem,” Akari said.

She glanced over her shoulder. Yuma was still at the kitchen table. He was kicking his legs back and forth as he showed their father and grandma all of his pictures, explaining everything in detail with his shiny eyes. Their father grinned and looked at every single picture and every detail he pointed out, asking all the right questions to get him started talking again.

Akari noted that the red scribble was not anywhere in the pile.

“He's got quite the imagination, doesn't he?” Akari said.

For some reason, she saw her mother's smile falter a bit. Akari blinked, but when she looked again, her mother was smiling that same soft smile of hers. Maybe she had imagined it.

“He certainly does,” she said, untying her apron from around her waist. “Could you put that into the cabinet?”

She handed Akari the apron and Akari folded it up, sticking it back where it belonged. She glanced back over at Yuma, and had to smile at the bright look in his eyes and the excitable way he talked. Her smile faded though as she again remembered that red scribble. Why did it bother her so much?

“Hey...kaa-san...” she said. “I think Yuma's been having bad dreams too. Besides these ones with the dream world and stuff.”

“Oh?” her mother said, glancing at her. “What makes you say that?”

Akari glanced over at Yuma. She bit her lip. Then she looked back at her mother.

“Well...okay. I was talking to him, and for one thing, that Kenji kid has been bothering him. A lot.”

Her mother's eyes darkened, brow coming together. Akari shivered in spite of herself. Even when it wasn't directed at her, mom's anger was a terrifying thing to behold.

“I knew it,” she said, throwing her towel angrily into the sink. “And that foul woman was angry at me for not controlling my child. I'm going to have a talk with her...”

“That's not all, kaa-san,” Akari said. “He drew another thing...I saw it in his room but I guess he's not showing you guys...”

Her mother relaxed a bit, at least to look at Akari and listen to what she was saying. Akari hesitated. That red scribble was imprinted on her mind.

“It was...weird,” she whispered. “Just...red. And when I asked him about it, he looked...really scared. He said it was a nightmare.”

Akari did not miss the flicker that passed through her mother's eyes. Although...she had no idea what it meant.

“Kaa-san?”

Her mother turned to look at Yuma. Akari thought she saw her hands shaking at her sides.

“Kaa-san? I think he's having trouble...it might have to do with something at school, stress, maybe. I think maybe he might need to talk to someone if it's bad enough to make him have bad dreams.”

Her mother startled out of some kind of trance.

“Oh,” she said, putting a hand to her breast. “Oh, right...that's a good idea, Akari.”

She smiled and pushed her hair behind her ears. For a moment, she just stood there. Then she put a hand on Akari's shoulder and squeezed, meeting Akari's eyes.

“You're such a good big sister,” she said. “You take such good care of him...”

Akari shrugged, blushing a bit.

“He's my brother...I have to look out for him, don't I?”

Her mother smiled and hugged her briefly.

“Thank you for being so good with him,” she said.

It seemed a strange thing to thank her for, but Akari didn't have much a chance to ask why before her mother was floating away, coming behind Yuma's chair and resting her hands on the back of it, smiling as Yuma craned his neck back to chatter at her about the Dream World.

Akari stood there for a moment, just watching. Brother, father, mother, grandmother. Her whole family, standing there. Happy, peaceful. She wished she had her camera with her right now. That would have been a great shot.

Instead, she saved it in her mind, filing the picture away for the next time she needed a sense of peace and security.

Then she walked over to her family and joined in the oohing and aahing over Yuma's pictures.


	6. VI

 

  
_“A plan has been made. The God Code must be harnessed. For that, a vessel will be built.”_

 

ln 18, page 45, Astral Project Journal 2. Author lost.

* * *

 

Mother had been...agitated that morning. Pacing back and forth. Constantly flipping her fingers through her hair, scrunching up the strands between her hands and leaving her pale hair a frizzy mess. Kaito wasn't sure if he should tell her or not. She had been muttering to herself, too—in her native language, one that Kaito had never really learned, so he could only pick up a few scattered words that made little sense out of context. He had approached her from the stairs, biting down on his tongue to where she was pacing back and forth across the marble floor of the entry hall.

“Mother? Is everything all right?”

She had stopped, then, in the middle of her pacing. Her face angled in the vague direction of Kaito's voice, and a half smile dragged her lips across her cheeks. She looked even more radiant than usual despite the frizz of her hair, with the beautiful black dress that swirled around her feet, scattered with tiny glimmers of white stone that looked like the dusting of stars in a night sky. She was wearing the choker that father had given to her for their tenth anniversary, the black ribbon one with the strings of white stones that draped along the edges.

“I'm fine, love,” she had said, reaching out towards him. He had stepped forward automatically so that her hand could find his head, and she stroked his hair gently. “I'm fine. Don't worry yourself. Just a little anxious about this party, is all. Your father is getting me a little worked up; he's very stressed.”

And with that, his father's voice had echoed down the hallway asking if anyone had seen his ties, and his mother had turned around to shout back that they were on the dresser, and the conversation was over.

Now, Kaito wasn't even sure where his mother and father were. He sat at the back of the room, bouncing Haruto on his knee as the little boy sucked on his fingers, eyes staring at anything and everything. He didn't know why he and Haruto had had to come to this party. It was a grown-up party, full of scientists and businessmen and even some celebrities, and Kaito felt out of place.

Haruto tugged on Kaito's tie and he grimaced.

“You're gonna choke me,” he said. “Come on, Haruto, stop it.”

Haruto just grinned widely with his teeth half missing, and kept tugging on Kaito's tie.

“Kai,” he said. “Kai.”

“Yeah, okay,” Kaito said.

He looked again over the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of either his mother or his father. Everyone looked the same from his vantage, in tiny knots of elegantly dress and affected speech, the clink of wine glasses as people filled them again or picked up another one from a circulating waiter. He saw a million colors of sleek evening dresses, but not his mother's starry black dress. He had thought she would be easy to pick out, with her skin several shades darker than the rest and her pale hair almost a glowing beacon in the dim, atmospheric lightning of candles and chandeliers. His father would blend into the rest of the too-pale scientific men in suits that didn't fit their scrawny frames, but his mother should have been easily visible. This room was too rich, with marble floors, paneled walls with sweeping, carved pillars that swept up into the dark, faraway ceiling, tall windows that looked out into darkened gardens outlined in the silver of moonlight. But no sign of his parents.

Over the light buzz of chatter, he couldn't even hear the click of his mother's guide cane. She was probably with his father, talking to one of father's scientist colleagues. They had gotten separated almost an hour ago, and Kaito had thought it was for the best that he take Haruto somewhere where he wouldn't get into trouble. After all of this, mother and father couldn't have even gotten a babysitter for the two of them? Haruto wasn't going to have any fun at this stuffy party. Well, if Kaito was honest, Haruto was having plenty of fun bothering Kaito by pulling on his tie or his ears or his hair or anything else his tiny fingers could get a hold of. Kaito was the one who was bored out of his skull.

Kaito sighed, hefting Haruto better onto his lap before the boy leaned too far out and tumbled onto the floor. He was currently fascinated with the shiny things on the trays of the waiters that circled a few feet away from the chair that Kaito had pulled into the corner, and Kaito had to keep a tight grip on the squirming child to prevent him from running off and getting under someone's feet.

Kaito strained his neck again, trying to peer over heads to find his parents. It probably wasn't going to be long before Haruto needed help going to the bathroom and he didn't even know where to find one.

“Sit—still—Haruto—” he muttered as Haruto strained even harder to get out of Kaito's lap.

His grip slipped. Kaito felt a swear word that he wasn't supposed to know forming on his lips as in slow motion Haruto went tumbling forward, head first toward the marble.

A hand snapped out and caught Haruto under the chest.

“Whoa! Safe!”

It was a woman's voice, one Kaito didn't recognize. Foreign, too, something about the way she pronounced her syllables with a bit too much emphasis. Kaito's brain processed this information automatically as his hands snapped forward to get Haruto under the arms and make sure he wasn't going to fall. The other hand supporting Haruto helped Kaito push the little boy into his arms as Kaito turned him around and hefted him up.

“Careful!” he said, frowning at his brother. “You're going to hurt yourself.”

Haruto didn't seem to get it because he kept squirming.

“Bit of a adventurous type, huh?”

Kaito finally had a breath to look up at Haruto's rescuer. It was one of the waitresses, still balancing a tray with one hand even as she had caught Haruto. At least she hadn't lost any of those little sandwiches. She was slender, with her blond hair tied into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She flashed Kaito a smile before rubbing briefly at the side of her eye.

“He's a little...curious right now,” Kaito said. “Ugh, stop squirming, Haruto...”

The woman laughed softly. She swung her tray down in front of her.

“Are either of you hungry? These should be easy enough for him to eat; they're soft.”

“O-oh, thanks...”

He tentatively picked up one of the tiny sandwiches and showed it to Haruto. Haruto's lips made a big O as he stared at it for a moment, and then he tried to grip it in his tiny baby hands.

“You're gonna crush it like that,” Kaito said. “Come on, just eat it.”

Haruto eventually got the sandwich in his mouth, sans a bunch of crumbs that were now all over Kaito's lap. He found himself blushing a little bit, or at least, his ears felt hot.

“Sorry. He's a mess.”

“He's a kid, it's fine,” the woman said. “Reminds me of some of my little ones. I've got a few around his age.”

“Oh, really?” Kaito said. This was awkward, and he was really just saying it to be polite. He didn't really know how to continue this conversation, and he wished he could just find his parents. “Oh, um...sorry, but you haven't seen a woman with a black dress anywhere have you? She's got a white cane, too.”

“Oh, Ms. Tenjo, right? She's back that way,” the woman said, pointing. “Just rounded her and her husband...those your parents?”

“Y-yeah. I kinda got lost in the room.”

She laughed softly, but it wasn't unkind.

“Why don't you follow me, I'll get you over to them.”

“Thanks,” Kaito said, feeling a rush of relief as he stood up with Haruto in his arms. At least now Haruto wasn't trying to get away. Instead, he had wrapped his arms around Kaito's neck and was kind of choking him by pulling on the back of Kaito's collar. Well, at least he wasn't falling.

The woman resituated her tray in one hand and nodded in the direction they were going. Kaito got his grip settled on Haruto and then hurried after her.

“Last I saw them, they were talking with that mascot guy,” she said. “The one always in the green suit, never remember his name.”

“Mr. Heartland?” Kaito said. The name stabbed him in the stomach and he suddenly felt sick. That man was here tonight, too? Wasn't it bad enough that he was always around the house?

“Yeah, that's the one—don't know why I can never remember the name, it's the same as the city. Guess I've got too much else on my mind,” she said, laughing. “I heard your dad worked with him to plan the design for the city, right?”

“I...I guess.”

Father never talked about his work, and Kaito never asked. He knew that father had become very well off with his work on Heartland City, mostly for the energy saving systems he had helped plot into the city plan, but he had learned that from newspaper articles. The stuff that father did in the basement laboratory didn't look like run of the mill environmental experiments at all...

“Ah!” the woman said. “Straight over there.”

She nodded to her right, and Kaito's eyes peeked around her. He felt a sigh of relief bubbling up in his throat as he saw his mother's shimmering star dress, his father's suit that never seemed to fit him right. They stood in a small group, which, unfortunately, did contain Mr. Heartland, but Kaito could get over the knot of automatic revulsion if he had to. Another pair of men stood a little closer to his parents, between Heartland and them. They looked nicer, one of them with a silvery-blond braid over his shoulder, the other a shorter man with slicked back hair, who reached up to fix the man with the braid's flipped coat collar. There were a few other richly dressed men that looked vaguely familiar, faces that Kaito might have seen in the news, businessmen or politicians probably. It didn't matter, he just needed to get to his parents so that he could find someplace quieter and less boring to stay with Haruto until this party was over.

“Thank you,” he said to the woman, moving around her to start towards his parents.

“Have a good night, kids,” she called to them.

Kaito gave her a brief smile as he passed, and then his eyes slid back over to his parents.

He caught only the barest glimpse of his mother's shimmering dress as she turned, her face moving towards the sound of his feet against the marble, caught the sight of her clouded eyes once.

And then suddenly he heard the woman's tray clatter to the ground and her hand grabbed his shoulder and whipped him back behind her, bending herself over him and that was when the light exploded over Kaito's vision.

The light was immediately followed by a crack, a roar of an explosion and a rush of heat that washed over him. It was a blur, chaos. The woman shoved him and Haruto to the ground as another blast of heat rushed over their heads and the world went white and red and there was dust and something else crashing loudly to the ground near his head and there might have been screams but his ears were ringing from the first screeching explosion and he couldn't see or hear or smell anything but burning fabric and skin and hair and Haruto's hands were knotting into Kaito's tie and he couldn't breathe either from the smoke or the dust or Haruto's hands he didn't know but he couldn't even think past the

At some point, he blacked out.

At some point, the silence took him. Sent him spiraling down into the black, knowing that he wasn't supposed to be conscious and yet noticing the stars that spread out all around him anyway, floating in a space between planets and galaxies. It was a dream, and only a dream. But he felt like something was watching him. A pair of eyes that shone and swirled with a thousand stars, a claw that cradled him gently from falling endlessly through the black. A hum, a song that danced on the edge of his senses and told him that it was going to be okay. His mother's song...a lullaby that she had once sung when he was too young to really remember.

He woke up to a world of dust, darkness, and red and blue lights flashing against faraway walls. There were stars overhead. Why were their stars overhead? His throat was dry, coated with dust. He coughed. Why couldn't he move? There was someone on top of him. His head spun and then everything snapped into focus as he realized it was Haruto.

He tried to cry out for Haruto, make sure his brother was still moving because oh god, what had just happened, why was he on the floor and why did he feel so heavy? But he couldn't speak, the dust was too thick in his throat and it was like trying to talk through molasses.

And then Haruto stirred against him and he found the strength in his arms to tighten his grip on the boy because thank god. He could feel Haruto shaking. He was crying—why couldn't Kaito hear it? He couldn't hear anything except for a whine that echoed in his ears.

There were lights cutting through the dark. Beams of white that illuminated the strands of dust. He could see shapes moving through the room—wrecked, he realized with a cold hand running down his back. The lights were illuminating the edges of broken walls and collapsed pillars that carpeted the room. Kaito managed to turn his head despite the scream of protest.

 _Nothing hit us,_ he thought dizzily. _It all fell around us._

He could see a human shape, the edges outlined in white, crawling through the wreckage. He swallowed, tried to call out, but only a squeak came. He managed to get an arm free of Haruto and waved once, his arm feeling weighted. It collapsed to the ground after one wave.

But he had gotten lucky—a searchlight swung towards him and he groaned, closing his eyes against the glare. He still couldn't hear anything even as boots hurried over into his line of vision and a visored face appeared over him. Kaito couldn't see the eyes behind it, but their hands were gentle as they prodded at him and then Haruto briefly. They said something, and Kaito tried to squint to read the lips, but couldn't make it out. He shook his head, fluttered his hand at his ears. They nodded briefly, and then put their hands gently on Haruto. They tried to lift him free of Kaito's arms, but Haruto's hands knotted into Kaito's tie and shirt and even though Kaito couldn't hear, he could see Haruto sobbing and screaming, see his lips saying Kai Kai Kai Kai Kai.

_It's okay...Haruto, it's okay, they're not taking you, I promise, no one will take you, I promise, I promise, I promise—_

He didn't really remember being helped up, being moved onto a stretcher and pulled towards and ambulance. He didn't remember getting to the hospital, his ears and eyes going in and out, in and out. He remembered waking up once, asking for Haruto. They told him his brother was fine, minor injuries, miracle, and that he was going to be fine too, he just needed to rest and they had to check to make sure he hadn't fractured his skull on the fall.

He didn't know how long it was before he was fully conscious again, and he didn't want to ask.

He was even more afraid of asking what had happened to his parents.

* * *

They were calling it a terrorist attack. Twenty six people dead. Kaito had read the names five times, trying to pretend that one of them wasn't there.

But it was. It was there. The tiny black letters glared at him from the page, clear even though his hands were shaking so badly that it vibrated the whole newspaper, screaming at him to accept.

He could hear his father sobbing in the other room, screaming. He had been at it for several hours now, audible even though he was two hospital rooms down.

“Where are they? Where's my family? Don't fucking talk to me like that, you're lying, she's not dead—where is Kaito? Where is Haruto? No, I will not sit back down, not until I've spoken with my wife—where is Sitara? Where is Sitara!”

Kaito ripped the newspaper in half.


	7. VII

 

_“The dragon looked out on the light and darkness, and became sad. It was alone.”_

_the Heartbeat Cycle. Author unknown._

* * *

 

“Lua-kun? Lua-kun! Where are you?”

Yuma wandered along the edge of the ocean, looking for some sign of Lua. It was odd, usually his friend appeared much sooner. Oh no, what if something was wrong?

Off in the distance, he could hear the wind rustling through the leaves of the forest he and Lua had made a few nights before. This world was looking more and more beautiful by the night. The silvery-purple sand now slowly melded into a field of rustling grasses. Like the rest of the world, the grasses were in varying shades of violet and silver, but the flowers that bobbed in the breeze came in every color of the rainbow, including a few that Yuma had never seen before outside of this world and couldn't seem to recreate with his crayons no matter how hard he tried.

The wide field, with its three-foot tall grasses and the occasional spindly tree that bent and twisted like a carefully tended bonsai, eventually melded into the deep forest. Yuma had built the forest with the tallest trees he could imagine, thick, black-barked things that glimmered like obsidian, their deep purple leaves entwining into a thick canopy above that dove the woods below into a dim, light-dappled silence, with strategically placed branches so that if he wanted to, he could clamber up into one of them whenever he wanted. The roots had been built into small coves that he could crawl into if he wanted to hide somewhere.

It wasn't an empty wood, either. Strange creatures skittered among the fallen leaves and in and out of the brush. Geode birds would swoop among the branches, their tops a bumpy, dark rock, and their undersides a shimmering amethyst. Tiny glowing butterflies rested in trees, looking like Christmas lights. There were squirrel-like creatures the size of cats with long fox ears and huge shimmering tails, dark as night with white bellies, that would scramble up trees and squawk whenever someone walked near—those were Yuma's favorite.

And the most mysterious were the ones that Lua had made: tiny, deer-like creatures with a single branching horn, that looked like shadows outlined in starlight as they picked their silent way through the wood, their lion tails twitching. Sinuous dragons with silver claws and white eyes, that glowed with magic symbols down their snake-line frames. Yuma loved to catch a glimpse of them. He would hide in trees along the black star river for hours just waiting for one to snake its way through the trees, undulating through the air without wings, like a snake swimming through the ocean.

Perhaps Lua was in the woods, then, Yuma thought, and he turned his feet away from the ocean line and towards the field. He paused a few times to chase a butterfly or stare at a new flower that he didn't remember from last time, his thoughts wandering to what he could make next—maybe he would make a mountain range, and a cabin. Lua had talked about gardens once or twice. Maybe Lua would like a garden!

He entered the canopy of trees and the sound of the ocean faded. It was pretty clear under here, not much brush. He could hear the fox-squirrels bounding away, and their irritable squawks at being interrupted. He grinned as he wandered between the trees. Maybe he should make some pathways. Oh! And the pathway could lead to a garden at the edge, and the mountains could be behind that!

He hummed a happy tune to himself, excited about what he and Lua would make next.

Then he caught the glow of his friend out of the corner of his eye, and with a big grin turned and ran towards the tree he had seen it by.

“Lua-kun —” he started as he rounded the tree.

And then he paused.

Lua leaned against the tree, eyes closed, breathing softly, steadily. They were fast asleep.

Yuma stared for a moment. He couldn't remember ever seeing Lua sleep before. He had thought, somehow, that they wouldn't need to. They lived inside a dream, after all...

The crystalline being glowed gently, the light pulsing like a heartbeat across the shiny bark of the dark tree. For the first time, Yuma realized just how transparent his friend really was. He could see the bark of the tree through them. And Yuma could see something in their chest, glowing and spinning and coming apart, like it was made of a thousand puzzle pieces that were all sliding together and around each other, taking the vague shape of a Duel Monsters card at times. The thing was a deep, deep, deep blue, and shone pale around its edges, tiny dots of starlight gleaming with in it and small lights like slow-moving shooting stars swirling around it.

Yuma stared at the object, entranced by its motions. He felt as though he could stare at it forever and never grow tired—he felt as though he were staring at the edge of the answers of everything in the universe.

Lua's eyes fluttered. They opened. Their body seemed to solidify again, and Yuma could not longer see the shifting force within them.

“Oh, Yuma-kun,” Lua said, smiling. “You're early.”

“Sorry,” Yuma said.

“Don't be.”

Lua stretched and stood up. Then they seemed to notice Yuma's curious expression.

“Is something the matter?”

“You had a shiny thing in your chest.”

Lua blinked. Then dawning realization came over them, mouth opening in a small O.

“Oh,” they said. Their brows drew together with a bit of discomfort and worry. “That's just my heart, Yuma-kun.”

Yuma's eyes widened.

“I didn't know hearts looked like that,” he said in a low whisper. “It's really pretty!”

He stared down at his own chest. He poked at it tentatively.

“Do I have a heart like that?”

Lua actually laughed.

“No, Yuma-kun,” they said. “Not quite.”

“Aww,” Yuma said, pouting. “But yours is pretty.”

He stared at the ground for a moment. Then he started to bounce on his heels.

“Oh, I remembered what I was going to say! Can we make some mountains next? Can we? I really want to see mountains!”

Lua smiled, but there was a sort of surprise there, as though they hadn't expected the conversation to change so quickly and easily.

“Mountains? That's a good idea. We should definitely make some.”

Yuma squealed with delight.

“We can put them right behind the forest, and oh, we should build some paths in the forest, and I was thinking we should make a garden, because you like gardens right and then I was thinking—”

And Lua just smiled, glowing softly as usual. Yuma noticed, but did not mention, that he could see a strange amount of sadness in Lua's smile...

* * *

Lua knew who was standing behind them without looking.

“I don't want to talk to you,” they said.

“You don't have a choice.”

Lua kept their eyes resolutely forward, staring down the beach. Yuma was running in and out of the surf, squealing with delight. He never got tired of that. Lua found a smile growing on their lips, eyes softening.

“He's not something to be coddled.”

Lua's smile faded instantly.

“Nor is he a weapon to be used,” they said.

“N.”

Lua shuddered at the sound of that name.

“Don't call me that,” they hissed. “Never call me that.”

“Would you prefer I call you by the lie?”

Lua let out a low, animalistic hiss. It was the sound of smoke and steam curling from between fanged lips, an echo of something that no longer was.

“It's not a lie,” they said. “It's not.”

“'Lua?' Hardly original. You simply grabbed for the last name you bore during your most recent human life.”

Lua stared straight forward, refusing to acknowledge the speaker, eyes fixed on Yuma as he started chasing after a fish that jumped through the water with glistening fins like wings.

“You can't keep pretending. It's acceptable when you take on human form, and forget. But you cannot forget in this form, N.”

“I am Lua,” Lua said, hands tightening in their lap. “Lua.”

There was a pause. Then the speaker sighed. A heavy, ancient sound that smelled of old forest and steel.

“Fine. Lua. You know why I'm here.”

“And you know that I will not speak with you.”

“...you cannot keep him in your little world forever. I'm here to protect help you protect him.”

Lua's hands tightened on their shoulders. Their jaw clenched, trembling.

Finally, they turned to face the speaker. Tall, thin, bony, with waves of white hair that covered the eyes. Human, but not. Lua knew better.

“What do you want me to do?” they whispered. “He's only a child....he's not ready. Not yet.”

“I never said he was. But if you want to protect him, you know what I have to do.”

“It will hurt him...it will make things hard for him...”

“And is preserving him from that worth his possible death? You know that Don Thousand is on the move. He knows what we've done already, and he'll be looking for him.”

Lua drew in a shuddering breath. They could hear the splash of Yuma's feet, his laughter as he slipped and yelped and fall back into the water, only to come up for air and burst out laughing again. He would not look this way. Not until the other one had left. That was the effect the other one had.

Lua's hands clawed into the sand.

“He's not ready,” Lua said. “He's not ready to—to lose such an integral part of himself.”

“He'll never be ready.”

“I won't let him become a tool.”

The other one's head tilted.

“Do you really think that's how I view him?”

Lua stared at the other one with cold, unwavering eyes. The other one sighed. A hand ran through white hair.

“You know, he is my grandson. Have a little more faith in me.”

“You know very well that I cannot. We both know each other far too well.”

The other one laughed. A soft sound, more breath than air.

“We can't bend the rules forever. You know what he has to become. What we...built him for.”

Lua's heart jolted. They swallowed.

“It might not be him,” Lua mumbled. “There's the other one...the girl...”

“I've already determined that it's not her. And you know this. You've known this since the moment he arrived in your world. It's him.”

Lua ducked their head. A small, choked sob escaped their throat.

“He's so young,” Lua whispered. “He's too young...”

The wind ruffled past the strange pair. The glowing figure kneeling on the ground, shoulders shaking, and the tall, lanky one with the white hair that rippled in the breeze as though it were made of silk.

“Everyone is young to us,” the other one said softly. “And I never said this was going to be easy.”

Lua's shoulders drew up around their ears.

“....please be gentle with him,” they said, pleading.

The other one looked down at Lua. A nod.

“I'm not a monster. He is my grandson.”

The other one sighed.

“And this is to protect him. Nothing more.”

Lua's fingers dug into the sand.

“...I know.”

Neither moved for a long, long moment. And then the other one stepped forward. Lua did not look up from the sand as they heard the other's ones feet step softly through the sand. They heard Yuma stop splashing. Could imagine him looking up with surprise, blinking with those wide crimson eyes of his.

“Oh!” they heard him say. “I've never met you before!! Are you one of Lua-kun's friends?”

Lua closed their eyes and tried not to listen. It was impossible, though...

They heard the soft gasp. The faint attempt to struggle, a splash, a leg kicking at the water as the magic took hold of him and caused him to stiffen him. Lua could see it all even without looking, the images playing in his mind. Yuma's eyes wide, scared, not knowing what was going on, not understanding what was being done, the strange feeling that creeped through him like it was ripping something away from him.

Because it was.

They were taking something so important from him.

And then it was over. In just a few seconds, it was over, although it felt like it had been eternity.

Lua heard the other one's footsteps, and looked up towards the other one. Hands cupped two small lights swirling around each other—one blue, and one red, pulsing softly like tiny stars.

“It's done,” the other one said. “I'll take this to the border.”

Lua clenched their jaw. They closed their eyes against the tears.

“If he was at his full potential, Don Thousand would sense him in an instant. This is only temporary—you know that. He'll get it back.”

“I know,” Lua said.

They didn't want to look...but they did, eyes wandering towards Yuma. The boy just sat there in the surf, staring at nothing, eyes blank.

“But it will hurt him...for as long as his magic is taken from him, even the smallest part...it will hurt him. And he'll never know why.”

The other one sighed, a deep sound like the wind between ancient oak trees.

“Don't think that this is any easier for me.”

The other one remained for a moment longer.

And then vanished. As though never there at all.

Lua remained where they were for a moment. Then they scrambled up to their feet and jogged down the sand, feet splashing into the tide as they dropped beside Yuma, throwing their arms around him.

Yuma startled out of his trance.

“Huh...?” he mumbled. “L-Lua...? Did something happen...?”

Lua swallowed and pressed their face into Yuma's shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” they said. “I'm so, so sorry...”


	8. VIII

 

_“From quiet red/to silent blue/the spectrum glows/unnatural hues.”_

_– Path Song. Traditional._

* * *

 

Akari found herself staring at that box for the first time in seven years.

It sat on her lap, staring at her. Glaring. Accusing. She shuddered. It was just a box—just a small, brown, cardboard box, small enough that when she held it in both hands, her fingers overlapped each other. Nondescript. Not even a label, unlike the rest of her meticulously organized closet. Not that this box had been there, not that this box had been placed in plain view with the other file boxes. She had just dragged this one out from underneath the bed, where she had flung it at the age of seven and never looked at it again.

Her finger twanged the rubber band that held it shut. The sound seemed to vibrate through her, all the way down to the bed underneath her. She shuddered again.

It's just a box, she thought at herself, angry. It's not going to bite.

She knew, though, that it wasn't the box she was scared of.

It was what was inside it.

She worked her finger under the rubber band again, hesitated with the rubber stretched over her nail. So simple. Just flip the band off, and then take off the lid. The things she had tried to forget were tucked away in here. Should she even start to remember them?

She ran her tongue over dry, chapped lips. Her heart rate was already picking up, already thrumming in her ears like a siren. She could feel her throat closing up. Panic attack. She might be having a panic attack.

She took her finger out from under the box, flung it against the headboard of her bed. It bounced, landed on the pillow, toppled over upside down.

It still stared at her. She could still feel it, vibrating against her fingers. If she cracked the lid, she was positive she would hear them again, calling out to her.

She knew she couldn't handle that.

Akari swallowed down a brick of frightened tears in her throat. Frustration hummed against her skin for how stupid she was being. This was just game.

She pulled her legs up onto the bed, dropped her head between them, and hugged herself into a ball.

It wasn't just a game.

Not for her.

Damn you, she thought at her parents. Damn you for bringing this up again.

It had been no more than twenty minutes ago. A car ride back from the camping trip they had been on for the weekend. Yuma had actually worn himself completely out running around all weekend, and he had dropped to sleep the moment he had landed in the car. Her mother told her she could sit in the front seat.

“So you won't have to listen to him snore on your shoulder,” she laughed, and then she climbed in beside Yuma and tugged the little boy gently to lean against her instead of laying with his neck tilted back at an awkward angle.

With Yuma asleep, the ride was silent. Akari popped her earbuds in, hummed along to the latest tune from her favorite Korean girl band. The world zoomed by them in a blur, wild forest dotted with the occasional log house nestled in the leaves. Only a few cars joined them on the four lane row, zipping by in the other direction or meandering at a steady pace alongside them.

It was quiet up this far north, she thought. A slow sort of life, still thick with trees. It was amazing, really, she mused, that Japan had any forests left. She had read in her history books how development had eaten away slowly at all of the mountains, the trees, the fields, subduing all of nature under steel and glass. And then one day, development had just...petered out. Some cited a tanking economy, family units who were starting to knit together in smaller spaces rather than branching out to new places. Others claimed it was the sudden stagnation of Japanese population that had accompanied the second Russo-Japanese War and the peak of the economy during it, resulting in less children born and fewer left still around after dying in the war. And some of the crackpots insisted that it was because Japan's natural spirits had finally broken through to the people, convincing them at a primal, soul level of an apathy towards expansion, trying to preserve their last spaces. Whatever the reason, Japan was still home to a vast wilderness that didn't show signs of vanishing any time soon.

She had been almost about to fall asleep herself, eyes drooping, head falling slowly towards the window, when her father's soft, deep voice had broken the silence.

“How are you doing, Akari?”

She blinked awake with a jerk, her hair flapping against her neck.

“Hmmmm?” she mumbled. She yanked one earbud free and glanced over at him, blinking away the dregs of sleep.

“We didn't get as much of a chance to talk this weekend as I wanted,” her father said, shrugging with that helpless smile of his. “I'm sorry. Yuma always takes up a lot of time.”

Akari shrugged.

“I mean, it's not like I'm a kid anymore,” she said. “You don't have to spend every minute keeping me entertained, like that little spazz back there.”

Her father chuckled, and Akari blushed as she heard her mother laughing softly too. She hadn't known her mother was listening in.

“I guess not,” Kazuma said, still smiling. His eyes flickered to her briefly, dark orbs meeting her for a moment before jumping quickly back to the road. “But that doesn't excuse us for neglecting you. I wanted to check in with you. How's school going?”

“It's...school,” Akari said, shrugging. “It's not very interesting, or I would have told you more about it before.”

“Your school newspaper just won an award, didn't it?” her mother said from the backseat. “For excellence in high school writing.”

“What? I didn't know that,” Kazuma said, eyes widening. “Akari, why didn't you say anything? Was there a ceremony or something?”

“It was during school hours, and you guys were traveling,” Akari said quickly. “And it's not a big deal. They won that award two years ago, too. It wasn't because of me.”

She bit her lip and let her eyes drop to her lap, hoping that her father wouldn't glance at her again. He didn't want him to see her jaw tremble slightly.

She had tried to call them after the paper had won. She remembered pulling herself free of the editor-in-chief hugging her so tightly that she couldn't breathe so that she could type out her parents' number—she had to do it three times because her fingers were shaking so badly. Her editor-in-chief had been gushing over Akari's writing skills and choice of topics for the front page as Akari waited for the phone to ring. Telling Akari over and over that it was her help that had pulled them out of their loss from last year and drove them back up, thanking her for joining over and over. Akari had smiled but she had been waiting for the phone to pick up. And waited. And waited.

They had never answered.

She felt like she was going to cry about it again—but she didn't want to, didn't want to make her parents feel bad. It wasn't their fault that their jobs took them all over the place all the time, they couldn't be there for everything. She rubbed at the side of her eye, trying to make it look like it was just itchy.

Her mother's hand touched her shoulder. Akari choked.

“Akari,” her mother whispered. “I'm sorry. I know...I know it's hard.”

Akari swallowed through the knot in her throat and shook her head quickly.

“It—it's fine,” she said thickly, like she was speaking through soup. “Anyway—uh—yeah. School's fine. Writing for the newspaper a lot. Tetsuko wants me to do a piece for the youth Duel Tournament next month. I'll probably go.”

“That sounds like fun,” Kazuma said. “Mind if I tag along? We're not headed out anywhere else for two months.”

Akari shrugged.

“Sure, I mean—it'll be pretty low-tier, probably not interesting...the kids might be worse at the game than Yuma,” Akari joked.

Kazuma laughed.

“He's learning,” he said. “He just forgets what order the actions go in. And the directions to put his cards. And to read his card effects.”

He shook his head with a smile.

“But then, you were about the same at his age, weren't you? Trying to summon advances without a tribute, XYZs without an Overlay.”

“Well, it was confusing when you had ten different voices telling you what to do at the same time,” Akari said defensively.

And then she realized what she had said, and her voice died. For a moment, the world went white. She didn't know what was happening, where was she, what—

She must have only blanked out for a few seconds because when her vision cleared again that same road sign she had seen in the distance was still in front of them. Her mother's hand was on her shoulder all of a sudden, cool and tight, like water gripping her, supporting her. Her father's hand was on top of her hand, his face suddenly stone—besides the flicker of worry that kept flashing over his eyes, the way that he kept trying to look at her even while he knew he had to look at the road.

“Akari,” Mirai whispered. “Akari. You're okay. You're right here. Just pay attention to my voice.”

Akari tried to swallow and almost choked. She pressed a hand to her mouth. Her K-Pop band was still singing in one ear, popping to a cheerful rhythm that she could not currently relate to. She fumbled with the cord for a second and finally ripped it free of her ear. Leaving her in comforting silence.

She leaned her head back against the chair, just trying to focus on the feeling of her parents' hands. She could feel tears pricking in her eyes.

“I'm sorry,” she mumbled. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

“Oh, no, sh, sh, sh,” Mirai whispered. “It's okay. It's okay.”

“I'm the one that should be sorry,” her father said, his voice coming out in a scratchy growl. “I—I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking.”

A tear escaped her eye and she tried to suck a breath through the narrow hold of her throat.

“Why do you let him play that game?” she mumbled. “Why do you let Yuma play it? What if he—what if he's like me?”

“Akari...”

“Akari, there's nothing wrong with you,” Kazuma said. His voice was harsh all of a sudden, frustrated, like sandpaper. “There is nothing wrong with me.”

Akari knew he was wrong, but she didn't argue. Arguing with her father never went well. She couldn't handle it right now. Her father's hand curled around hers, tightened, as though he could pull her free of her nightmares as easily as he could pull her over the side of a climbing wall. His hands were rough and calloused. Real. Solid. Akari's breaths were slowing down. But the same question was still on her mind, running over and over.

“Why do you let him play that game?”

For a moment, neither of her parents answers. She could hear only her heart in her throat and the moan of the tires against the pavement as they sped down the freeway.

“Yuma's dueling will one day lead to a greater destiny,” Mirai said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “And...maybe yours will too.”

Akari's throat closed for a moment. She didn't understand. She didn't understand.

Akari opened her eyes back on her own bed. The car ride still danced at the back of her head, and she didn't want to keep thinking about it.

Stupid, she thought. So stupid for pulling that back out.

She picked up the cardboard box in one hand, held it against her palm. She knew what was inside. It was still memorized, the list of cards she had carefully pulled together after researching each pack and the probability of pulling the necessary cards from a certain number of packs, to maximize her findings for her dollar. She had been such a weirdo as a kid. But either way, her childhood self seemed to still be nestled inside her heart. Whispering the names of the cards over and over to her, one after the other.

Remember, that voice insisted. Remember. Remember all of them.

“Yuma's dueling will one day lead to a greater destiny. And maybe...yours will too.”

For a moment, Akari sucked down a steadying breath. She tried. She tried to remember.

And then she whited out again.

When she came out of it, her mouth was dry and tasted of bile. She knew logically that only a minute had passed on her clock but she was shaking so badly and thought she must have been gone for days. It wasn't true. She had to remember, the attacks only lasted for a few seconds to a minute. Think of the facts. List them off. The doctor said it was a form of seizure. Almost epileptic, but not quite. Almost PTSD, but not quite. Thinking too hard about the incident when she was seven made her lose consciousness for a few moments. Not long enough for her to lose balance or fall and hurt herself, but long enough to make her panic, long enough to maybe trigger a second episode, and then another one.

She had to focus on the facts, bring herself out of it. Breathe. Count breaths. One, two, three, four, five, still breathing too fast, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Akari held the box so tightly that she was almost crushing the cardboard. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

I failed you, she thought at the box's contents for a moment. But I just can't do it.

She threw the box back under her bed.

Then she pulled herself back up, dragged the covers up and over her head, and tried to disappear in the stuffy darkness beneath the blankets.


	9. IX

 

_“Phase one has ended in failure. The host will not accept the Code. The programming must be altered. The Code must be accepted by the host or we will lose.”_

_ln 37, pg 17, Astral Project Journal 3. Author lost._

* * *

 

Haruto was hiding in the cupboard again. Kaito could tell, because of the way that the normally locked door was hanging just barely open...just enough so that Haruto wouldn't be scared of the dark. Kaito pushed the door the rest of the way open. Dust hung heavily in pillars in the air, turning everything into shades of monochrome gray. He waved his hand around and stirred the floating dust around his fingers. He glanced around the dark kitchen, wondering where his father was. Probably in the study, or the laboratory...like usual...

He pulled the door closed behind him. Just in case. No need to let anyone know that he or Haruto was in here.

The kitchen was unused, dust clinging to every surface in a thick, musty gray shroud. Kaito could see the trail of Haruto's footprints through the dust to the cabinet, the way that the lock had clearly been broken off. Their father didn't want Haruto in here anymore. Or really, anywhere in the house except his own room. It was too dirty everywhere, without someone to care enough to clean it. It could make Haruto's sickness worse.

The sickness. It was always about the sickness. Haruto was sick, Haruto needed to be well, something was wrong with Haruto. His father couldn't shut up about it. When he wasn't whisking Haruto off to doctor's appointments, he was throwing pamphlets around the house about various diseases, as though he were trying to diagnose Haruto himself.

It's not sickness, Kaito told himself, as always—but the sentence was starting to lose its confidence. Haruto's just sad. And lonely. And father's crazy episodes are scaring him.

Haruto only seemed sick when father was upset, Kaito kept telling himself. He only got withdrawn and quiet sometimes. It was more like—more like a depression than a sickness. There wasn't anything wrong with Haruto physically. He was okay. Kaito carefully avoided thinking about the way that Haruto seemed to fade out of consciousness in the middle of playing for a few minutes, or the way that he seemed to have trouble breathing while he was sleeping, or how he seemed to get winded really quickly, unable to run around for very long like a kid his age was supposed to be able to—

He stopped his thoughts in his tracks as he realized that his heart was picking up. No. No, it wasn't worth thinking about. Haruto was just...more fragile. He wasn't sick. He wasn't. He couldn't be.

It's mother's fault, his brain thought automatically. If she hadn't died...

It was stupid, but it was all Kaito had to cling to right now. If mother hadn't died, then Haruto wouldn't be sad, father wouldn't be strange, and that man wouldn't be hanging around their house every other day, leering at Haruto and Kaito through his red glasses with his too wide smile. Kaito's jaw clenched. He had never liked Mr. Heartland, but as the man visited more and more since their mother's death, he was starting to hate him.

Kaito heard the soft sob inside the cupboard and stopped just standing there. He walked over to the cupboard and bent down, peeking through the crack. He could see his brother's face pressed into his knees, just a crack of light illuminating his small frame.

“Hey,” he said. “Haruto?”

Haruto gasped and jerked up, almost hitting his head on the top of the cupboard.

“Sh, sh, it's okay, it's just me,” Kaito said, reaching one hand inside. “Do you want to come out of the cupboard?”

Haruto shook his head quickly. Kaito frowned, but didn't push it.

“Can I come in, then?”

Haruto hesitated. Then he nodded, a very small motion that Kaito almost missed.

He pulled the cupboard open and crawled in. He was almost too big to do this; it felt so cramped in here. Haruto scootched over and snuggled his head into Kaito's shoulder. Kaito managed to thread his arm between Haruto's back and the back of the cupboard, clutching his brother's tiny shoulders.

“You know father doesn't like it when you come in here,” Kaito murmured.

Haruto just pushed his face into Kaito's shoulder. He mumbled something.

“What was that?”

Haruto raised his voice only a fraction.

“...I hear mom here.”

Kaito bit his lip. Haruto talked like that a lot...he wasn't sure if it was the fanciful speech of a three year old, or if it was....something else. His father seemed to think so. During the times that he was especially strange, especially feverish, running hundreds of computer simulations on things that Kaito didn't understand, talking to himself and muttering strings of numbers, throwing papers around the room and even getting violent by kicking his instruments across the room and shattering glass test tubs against the walls of the laboratory. During those times he would storm into Haruto or Kaito's room—usually Haruto—and grab one of his sons by the shoulders and shake them a bit, demanding to know if they were hearing it.

He would never answer when Kaito asked what “it” was. But sometimes, Haruto would say yes. And then their father would drag Haruto down into the lab and lock the door and Kaito had no idea what was going on down there.

He had told Haruto to stop saying yes. Even if it was a lie.

“I still hear it,” Haruto mumbled. “Mom isn't loud.”

Kaito's hand tightened on Haruto.

“Are you scared? Of 'it'?” he asked.

Haruto nodded into Kaito's shoulder. Kaito pulled Haruto into him.

“Don't worry,” he said. “Your big brother will protect you. Okay?”

Haruto shuddered. But he nodded.

“Okay.”

Kaito sat there with Haruto in his arms for a long time. He didn't know how long. He sneezed once or twice from the dust floating around inside, and he started to cramp up, his butt falling asleep, but he wouldn't move, as long as Haruto wanted to stay in here.

He thought he might have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, the cupboard was being ripped open and Haruto was shrieking bloody murder because there was a hand reaching inside and grabbing him by the collar.

“I told you to stay out of here!” their father said, his voice a roar. “And Kaito! I told you to keep him out of this room!”

Kaito tried to cling to Haruto as Haruto grabbed onto his shirt, but his father was stronger and practically ripped Haruto out of the cabinet. Haruto's fingers slipped out of the fabric of Kaito's shirt even as Kaito grabbed at his brother's hands.

“Nii-san, nii-san, nii-san,” Haruto said over and over.

Their father reached in and grabbed Kaito next, dragging him out by his arm.

“Stop it, father! Stop it! Stop scaring Haruto!” Kaito shouted.

“Your brother is too sick to be in here! It's bad for his lungs! I can't believe you would let him stay in this trash heap for even a second! And you're supposed to be taking care of him! Aren't you his big brother?”

Kaito flinched as his father shook him, his already wrinkled face contorting with anger and distress. Haruto was sobbing and screaming, something incoherent and babbling.

“Stop it, father, you're scaring him! You're scaring Haruto!”

“I'm trying to take care of him, you ungrateful little runt!”

He half flung Kaito towards the cabinets again—oh, no, he was in one of those moods. Kaito scrambled back to his feet and grabbed at his father's waist, wrapping his arms around him and trying to stop him from leaving the room.

“Father, he just wants to be close to mother again, can't he just stay here for a few more minutes? He's scared, father, he's scared!”

“I have indulged the both of you far too much! Haruto, you must come with me—it's time for your medicines.”

“The medicines make him more sick! Father, please, you have to stop!”

His father simply grabbed him by the shoulder and wrenched him off, causing Kaito to tumble to the floor with a cry. Without another word, he hefted Haruto over his shoulder and stalked from the kitchen, ignoring Haruto's screams.

Kaito scrabbled back to his feet and bolted for the door. He wasn't quite quick enough, though, and the door slammed shut between him and his father. He heard the door click shut.

He screamed, then, a wordless sound of frustration and rage and fear and why. He slammed his fists on the door a few times. It did nothing, the door was very solidly wooden, but it make him feel a little better, even if his hands did sting.

He slumped against the wood, letting himself slide down against the door with his head pressed against it.

“I'm sorry,” he mumbled. “I'm sorry, Haruto, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

He slumped further to the ground and curled up into a tight ball at the foot of the door. He wondered what it was that Haruto heard in this room that made him feel better. To Kaito, it was just a tomb. A silent, horrible tomb.

At least, until he starting hearing it.

He wasn't sure what Haruto heard but he thought it must be something different from what Kaito heard. When Haruto heard “it,” he would shake and clutch his hands to his ears and curl up in a ball under the bed, crying until it went away. Haruto was scared of the “it.”

Kaito was not.

It was a humming, he thought. Dancing just on the edge of his mind. So quiet that it might have been the whine of an electronic in another room, except that it was musical. Sparkly, somehow. It wrapped around him like warm, leathery wings. It sounded like the tune that his mother had sung to him when he was a baby...dragonsong, she had called it.

He fell asleep listening to the dragonsong, and hoping, wishing, praying, that maybe that song could take him and Haruto away, far, far away, where there was nothing terrible, and father wasn't agitated, and he wasn't locked up in a dusty old kitchen that stunk with memories he'd rather not have.


	10. X

 

_“The dragon's sadness rippled across the light and darkness like a melody, wrapping around all of existence.”_

_The Heartbeat Cycle. Author unknown._

* * *

 

Lua sensed Yuma's arrival, but could not for the life of them figure out where the boy was hiding. That was odd...Yuma always came to greet Lua first.

It was quiet beneath the thick canopy of leaves. Not even Yuma's squirrels were rustling about for once. And they were always loud, always calling out to each other and screeching as Lua passed beneath them.

“Yuma-kun?” they called, brow furrowed as they wove around the trees. “Yuma-kun...are you here?”

A soft, strangled sob caught their attention. Immediately, Lua was alert, darting around a particularly large tree from which the sound had come.

They found Yuma there, nestled between the thick roots, huddled in a ball underneath the big tree. Lua's heart panged as they dropped to their knees beside the nook.

“Yuma-kun,” Lua whispered. “Yuma-kun...what's wrong? Are you okay?”

The boy's shoulders shook, his little hands gripping his knees. He should have been just a little too big to fit in this space; it had barely held him back when he was seven, and he had hit something of a growth spurt at nine. But the tree had changed itself to accommodate him, and he continued to fit neatly in the space.

“Yuma-kun,” Lua said again. “What's wrong?”

Yuma sniffled loudly, face pressed into his knees.

“L-Lua-kun,” he muttered. “M-my...it's...k-kaa-chan and t-to-chan...”

Lua's heart leaped. Oh no. Already? It was too soon...too soon for the Tsukumos to have gone. He was still too young. He was too young. They tried to keep their voice steady despite the choking feeling in their throat.

“Sh, sh...it's okay. It's okay. Take a breath. You don't have to talk yet.”

They reached one hand into the tree and touched Yuma's head gently, stroking soft fingers against his hair, soothing. Yuma kind of leaned into the reassuring touch for a moment. He shook under Lua's hand.

“Do you want to come out of the tree?”

Yuma shook his head.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Yuma nodded.

“Okay.”

It took Yuma a few moments to compose himself. His voice was muffled, as he did not lift his head and was speaking into his knees.

“...Kaa-chan and to-chan...they...they're gone.”

Lua sucked in a breath, but did not speak.

“T-They...they went on another adventure...and t-they haven't come back...they h-haven't c-called. T-They always c-call. B-baa-chan w-won't say anyt-thing, b-but I can tell...I don't think...t-they're coming b-back...”

Yuma's shoulder drew up and he choked on his words, sobbing. Lua felt something in themself break. Oh no. They had gone. They had already responded to the call and that meant—oh no. Yuma. This wasn't fair, it wasn't supposed to be now, the Door was supposed to wait, but now the Tsukumos had already left to prepare the way for Yuma but he was too young, he wasn't ready—

Yuma's soft sobs drew Lua back from their thoughts.

“Oh, sh, sh, sh,” Lua said, reaching into the nook and carefully drawing Yuma up and out, into their arms. “It's okay. It's okay.”

Yuma flung his arms around Lua and buried his face in their chest, sobbing.

“It's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here.”

“T-They left me and Akari-nee...t-they LEFT! W-why didn't t-they c-come back...w-where are they...?”

Lua held the shaking boy close to them, stroking his hair gently, murmuring soft, reassuring sounds. Slowly, Yuma's sobs receded, and he just sat there in Lua's grip, sniffling and shaking.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn't cry...”

“No, Yuma, it's okay. Don't be afraid to cry.”

“Boys aren't supposed to...Tetsuo said so.”

Lua squeezed him.

“Everyone cries. You have to when you're sad or everything hurts too much.”

Yuma sniffled loudly.

“...it still hurts even when I cry.”

“I know...I know.”

Lua held Yuma close, tight. So small—the boy was so small and fragile and too easily hurt. They closed their own eyes against their own tears. This was their fault. Their fault. Yuma didn't deserve this...he deserved to live a happy life. He didn't deserve to have his parents taken from him. This was Lua's fault. If they hadn't...made Yuma for this...

The child felt alone and abandoned and it was Lua's fault for putting this burden on him.

Lua's jaw tightened.

“Yuma,” they whispered. “I will bring them back. I promise. I will bring them back.”

Yuma sobbed once more and burrowed deeper into Lua's arms. Lua tried to still their own sobs as they hugged Yuma tighter.

Over Yuma's head, they could see the spindly red nightmare peeping around the corner. Another one in as many days. Too many. Lua glared at it and it dissipated.

But, they thought, as they stroked Yuma's hair, how long would that last?

* * *

“Yuma-kun.”

Yuma looked up from the big silver bumblebee that he had been staring at, and it buzzed lazily away from the flowers.

“What's up, Lua-kun?” he asked.

Lua swallowed. They ducked their head for a moment.

“We...we need to talk.”

“Okay.”

The nine-year-old crawled over to Lua and sat beside him, looking up expectantly. No jumping up and down, no wiggling in his seat or begging Lua to please please tell what was going on. He had been...a lot quieter since his parents had disappeared. Lua sighed as they sat down beside Yuma, folding their legs underneath them. They tried to emphasize the importance of their words with their gaze, holding Yuma's eyes as best they could.

“I have to go for a while,” they said. “And while I'm gone, I don't want you to come here. It's not safe.”

Yuma just stared at them for a moment. Then his eyes glazed over with a shadow and his face turned to stone.

“You mean...” he said. “You're leaving me too...?”

“No,” Lua said. “But...I need to see something. There is something out there that I need to check out for myself, and...things are changing here, Yuma. You have noticed it too, haven't you?”

Yuma looked down. He started to draw in the purple sand with his finger. Lua sighed. The boy was trying to block them out. They reached out with gentle fingers and tilted Yuma's chin back up to them. Yuma was pouting, trying to make his best puppy dog eyes—but behind that, there was real fear. Fear that Lua was leaving for good, that he would never see them again, that they would disappear just like his parents...

“I promise,” Lua said. “I will be back. As soon as I can.”

“Why can't I come with you?” Yuma said.

“Because you need to stay with your sister and grandmother. They need you.”

“But...but I don't want you to leave.”

Lua sighed. They smiled as gently as they could.

“And I don't want to leave.”

“Why can't I come here without you? I want to wait for you every night. How will I know you're back?”

“Have you seen the nightmares?” Lua asked softly. “There are...more of them than usual.”

Yuma ducked his head. A light shudder went through the boy.

“But...but I can make them go away,” he whispered. “By saying I'm not scared.”

“There are the white nightmares, too...those don't listen as well, you know.”

Yuma shook slightly. The first white nightmare to appear...he had been so scared that he had ended up throwing up when Lua chased it away. It hadn't listened when Yuma said he wasn't afraid. Lua bit their lip just thinking about it. They shouldn't be this strong this soon.

“But—” Yuma started.

“No,” Lua said firmly. You need to stay away while I'm gone. I promise, as soon as I return, I will call out for you. You will hear me. And I will come back.”

“How do I know?” Yuma said. His voice cracked. “That's what to-chan and kaa-chan said too—”

Lua reached out and wrapped their arms around Yuma, pulling him into their chest. Yuma's words were cut off. After a beat, Yuma wrapped his arms around Lua too, and squeezed so tightly that Lua though they might break.

“I will come back,” they said. “I promise you.”

They kissed Yuma's head gently, ran their hand through his hair in a soothing gesture. A soft sob escaped the boy, and he cuddled into the embrace deeper.

“I don't want you to go away.”

“I know.”

And they didn't want to go either. They didn't want to separate themselves from this boy, their friend, the first person they had come to care for so closely in years. Not when they knew what danger Yuma could be in...

But that was just it. He would be in even more danger coming here, to this place between places, where things weren't always as they seemed and details could slip through the cracks. Better that Yuma remained in his own world for the time being, until Lua had...finished the preparations...

The Door was right. Lua couldn't keep coddling him forever...and they couldn't wait forever either.

Lua squeezed the boy one more time.

“I will be back,” they whispered. “And who knows...I might bring your mother and father back with me.”

Yuma sniffled.

“Promise me one more time,” he said.

“I promise.”

And they would keep that promise, they vowed silently. No matter what it took. They would always come back to him, to this child, to Yuma.

It was a promise forever.

* * *

Yuma didn't listen.

He couldn't believe for a moment that Lua would leave him, even for a few days. He didn't want to believe it. And so, the very next night, he popped back into the Dream World, and waited.

He sat at the edge of the ocean for what felt like hours, watching the deep violet waves breathe in and out, in and out. Watching the sparkles in the air dance lazily around him, the stars blinking quietly above.

He wanted to go into the forest and search for Lua. Maybe walk down the paths to the Twilight Garden where he might find his friend sitting under a tree and thinking quietly to themself, the way they liked to. Or perhaps even sleeping again, although that was honestly a rare occurrence. He wanted to wander through the woods and look for that inky black river and maybe find the strange dragons and unicorns and the funny squirrels that made funny sounds and maybe climb up a tree and stare at the mountains in the distance and count stars again.

But when he had walked towards the Butterfly Meadow, he had seen a red nightmare crawling around a tree in the distance. He knew he was tougher than them. He knew he could handle a red nightmare easily. But then he had seen the white nightmare rise up from the grasses far away, and he had retreated back to the ocean. At least over here, in the slippery purple sand and the quiet relaxing noises of the ocean, there weren't any nightmares yet.

Yuma hugged his knees, burying his face against his legs. He felt like crying.

“Lua-kun,” he mumbled. “Please come back.”

Skrrtch. Skrrtch. Skrrtch.

The horrifying sound cut right through to Yuma's heart. He immediately scrambled to his feet.

White nightmares. At least five of them, approaching him slowly, their blurred, indescribable forms heavy and dragging behind them.

White nightmares didn't talk the way red nightmares did. They didn't ask you if you were scared. They just knew. And even pretending to be brave couldn't scare them away.

“I'm not afraid of you!” Yuma shouted anyway. “I'm not afraid of you!”

But his stomach was starting to twist, and his vision blurring out, and he could barely breathe. His brain screamed at him to run, so frantic that he couldn't think about anything except a desire to escape, to run as far away as he could. But his legs were frozen, his shoulders trembling, mouth going dry and hanging open and he couldn't breathe.

Yuma managed to stumble back a bit anyway, and his ankles hit the water. The warm ocean water was enough to snap him out of his panic, and he retreated farther back into the ocean waves. Maybe nightmares couldn't swim, he thought desperately. Maybe they couldn't follow him into the ocean.

It was a stupid thought, because they pushed on towards him anyway. Making that horrible scratching sound, the sound of death following him, and the little boy was so scared that he couldn't breathe.

“Go away,” he sobbed. “Go away! Lua-kun! Lua-kun!”

But Lua really was gone, weren't they? Because they couldn't hear Yuma calling out, didn't appear to save him as he pushed farther back into the water until he couldn't reach the bottom any more and was just treading water backwards desperately.

“Lua-kun!” he screamed. “Lua-kun!”

Lua was gone.

They really had left Yuma.

The white nightmares were swimming closer and closer, their blurry claws reaching out vaguely for his face, and he couldn't swim fast enough to get away, he just wanted to disappear under the water and vanish and—

“Yuma! Yuma!”

Yuma awoke with a scream in his throat, flailing out wildly.

“Yuma, it's okay, it's okay! I'm right here. I'm right here. It was just a dream.”

It was hard to see—it was so dark, and cold, and he couldn't feel the ocean around him anymore...oh, he was...on the floor? In his room? He had fallen off his hammock.

Akari was squeezing him to her chest, holding him tightly, trying to keep him from hurting himself in his nightmare flailing. She made quiet, soothing sounds at the back of her throat, starting to hum a little song, her hand running through his hair over and over again.

“It's okay. It's okay. It was just a dream. I'm here. I'm here.”

Yuma relaxed into a faint tremble. He pressed himself into his sister, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Lua-kun didn't come,” he sobbed quietly. “Lua-kun didn't come.”

“Sh, sh, it was only a dream...it was only a dream...you're awake now.”

But it wasn't a dream. It had been real. Lua was real. The Dream World was real. Yuma—Yuma knew it was. And Lua had left him. Would they ever be back? Would Yuma just be alone forever?

Maybe it really all had been just a dream.

Yuma buried his face into his sister's chest.

“I don't want to go back to sleep,” he whispered.

“Okay. Do you want something to drink? We can put in a movie. How does that sound?”

Yuma nodded.

“Do I have to go to school tomorrow?”

“Nah. Forget school. We'll just go somewhere tomorrow, okay? Just the two of us. Where do you want to go?”

I want to go back to the Dream World with Lua.

“Let's go to the park.”

“Okay. That sounds great.”

Yuma squeezed his arms around Akari.

“Don't leave me.”

Akari's voice cracked a little when she spoke next, her own around tightening around her little brother.

“I promise.”


	11. XI

“ _Shattered planes and fractured/hues. The color of a missing/heart. Worn out paths and worn down/shoes. The glowing of a missing/dark.”_

Path Song. Traditional.

* * *

“ _You're a good big sister, Akari. You take such good care of him.”_

Akari stared at the newspaper clippings all over the table. Jobs that she wasn't qualified for. Jobs that wouldn't hire her because she was still in school. Jobs that wouldn't hire her because she was too young, or too inexperienced, or she was too tall or too smart or from the wrong prefecture or some stupid ass reason why they wouldn't give her a job.

She groaned and dropped her head to the kitchen table, sending some of the clippings flying through the air. She banged her forehead lightly against the table a few times, more for dramatic effect than anything else—even though there was no one around to see her.

“Dammit,” she muttered. “Assholes. Why did you—you dumbasses.”

Her hands curled into the fabric of her jeans. Treacherous tears were threatening to spill from her eyes, and one dripped onto a clipping, smearing the ink. She lifted her head and rubbed angrily at her eyes with the back of her arm. No. No more of that. Her dumb parents didn't deserve her fricking tears after leaving them like that.

_Missing? My ass, I bet they just don't want to come home_ , she thought—irrationally, and she knew it. But she needed to be angry. She needed to be angry or she was going to collapse.

She stood up from the table with a jerk and marched over to the fridge, ripping it open and snatching a can of soda. She stared inside for a moment, and then she grabbed two more cans, bringing them back to the table. She drained the entire first can in fifteen seconds, and then went for the second one. The sugar sloshed down into her stomach. It was probably a placebo, but she thought she could feel a buzz starting in her fingers almost immediately as she put down the second empty can.

“ _Will you keep an eye on him? He's got...very big things ahead of him.”_

She popped open the last one. She sipped this one slower as she stared at the newspaper clippings.

Their parents were officially labeled missing. They hadn't checked in at the preappointed point for _months_. One or two search parties had been sent out, but it was practically impossible to get very far into the Amazon to see where the tracks may have disappeared. Usually if they went dark for a weird amount of time, they would show up at the next point and laugh about how they had accidentally skipped the previous one. Not this time. They had gone dark in late September, and now there was snow dusting the ground outside, and no word.

Her fingers curled up on the table, crumpling a few of the clippings in the motion. Her head was already spinning.

She was _eighteen_. She was supposed to be going to Heartland University next spring. But she had _seen_ the budget despite her grandmother trying to hide it from her, and she knew that without their parents working...no, there was no way. They couldn't afford it. They could barely afford to live in this house without a steady source of income. Their parents had left them quite a bit in savings, but even when Akari did the math, assuming that they'd be living as frugally as possible—she wasn't seeing it happening.

_Grandma can't work, even if she insists she can,_ Akari said. _And if we can't prove that we can support ourselves..._

She tried not to look at the unopened letter at the other end of the table. The one from the child services foundation. She already knew what it was going to say.

She clenched her jaw and renewed her glaring at the newspapers. There had to be something. She was going to be graduating high school in a few months, and then she could work full time. Something, anything, she had to get something that would hold them over.

_Until they get back,_ she found herself thinking.

She wiped the thought away. There was no point in thinking like that. As far as it was concerned...they were gone.

She had to hold things together now.

Tears bubbled in her eyes again but she squeezed them shut.

“Nee-san?”

Akari opened her eyes. Yuma peeked around the door, his single visible eye shadowed by the dim kitchen. Akari frowned, sitting up.

“What are you doing up, squirt? It's way past your bedtime.”

Yuma's eye dropped to the floor. His hand tightened on the doorframe.

“It's...it's not that late...”

“It's almost nine, squirt. Bed time is eight til you're twelve. Sorry, but them's the rules.”

“I can't sleep...”

Akari felt her shoulders slump. He looked so tiny, barely able to look up from his feet. His hand shook on the door frame. She sighed and set her can of soda down on the table.

“Okay,” she said, turning around in her seat and holding her arms open. “Come here.”

The nine year old scrambled around the corner, darting over to her. She oofed, almost falling over with the momentum of his hug, and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

“Bad dreams?”

“No...I don't dream anymore.”

She felt him bury his face deeper into her.

“I don't like it. It's a scary feeling, not having dreams...”

She frowned. Her hand came up to stroke his hair softly.

“It's okay,” she said softly. “It's okay...”

Yuma shuddered in her arms.

“When are they coming home?” he said. “To-chan promised we'd play Duel Monsters when he got back. When are they coming home?”

“Yuma...”

“ _Someday, Yuma's going to have something of a tough time...I hope you'll be there for him when that day comes.”_

_Knock, knock_.

Akari flinched in spite of herself, knocking her elbow into her soda can and sending the spray across her newspapers.

“Oh shi—shoot,” she said, hurriedly picking up the can as Yuma jumped out of the way. “Dang it, dang it—Yuma, can you go see who that is?”

Yuma scurried off down the hallway while Akari attempted to salvage some of the newspaper. It was already a lost cause and she moaned as she just ran to grab some paper towels to get rid of the mess.

“Nee-san! He needs to talk to you!”

“Who is it?” Akari shouted back. Someone from school, maybe? Nah, not even Kyosuke would show up at this time of night in the winter. And salesmen weren't going to be going door to door at almost nine. So who...

She wiped her hands off on her jeans as she strode out to the hall, tossing the soaked paper towels into the trash as she walked. Yuma hovered anxiously at the door, shifting from foot to foot on his slightly-too-long-for-his-body legs.

The man in the door was tall, taller than Akari was, and she felt a stab of nervousness in spite of herself. He wore a long, dark coat and a brimmed hat that sort of shadowed his eyes.

“Tsukumo Akari-san, correct?” he said in a clipped tone. “My apologies for being several minutes late.”

“Late...?” she parroted, blinking. “I'm sorry, but you are...?”

The man blinked at her with his dark eyes.

“You received our correspondence, did you not? I'm Heartland Child Services, Sakaguchi Tomoyo. We called you several hours ago to make sure the meeting was still in place—you didn't cancel.”

He pulled out a business card and held it out to her as he spoke. She only gave it a bare glance before she felt a burst of panic that froze her arms to her sides. Had—had that what the letter had been about? Oh, god, were they here to take Yuma away right _now_? God, that was the phone call she had ignored earlier—what the fuck, who planned this kind of meeting this late in the evening, what the fuck, what the fuck—

“I—I must...ah...have lost track of the time,” she said. “Um, come in, please.”

She stepped back, pushing Yuma gently out of the way. The man inclined his head as he stepped through the doorway, knocking the snow off his boots with a tight sort of motion.

“Yuma, would you wait in the kitchen, please?” she said.

“But, nee-san—”

“Go get yourself some milk, okay? I'll be back in a minute, and then it's bedtime. Got it?”

He pouted at her for a moment, his lip jutting out exaggeratedly far. But he listened, trotting away with a curious glance over his shoulder at the tall man.

Akari led him into the living room. She hesitated the barest moment before she sat down, with him sitting across from her, the coffee table between them.

“So I—I'm sorry, but this meeting is about...?”

“This is about you and your family's situation, as our letter clearly stated.”

Akari winced.

“I'm sorry. I've been kind of busy preparing for final exams.”

The man just blinked blankly at her. She ducked her eyes away, feeling unnerved.

“Your parents have been declared officially missing. We have to confirm that this living situation is going to be beneficial for your family.”

Akari had to stop herself from blurting out _“are you taking Yuma away?”_

“I...I see.”

“Is your grandmother not available?”

“I'm sorry, obaasan goes to bed around eight. She gets tired pretty quickly—if you'd have come a few hours earlier...”

She stopped herself as she saw his eyebrows draw together slightly.

“And that's what we've come to discuss,” he said, setting his briefcase down on the coffee table. “Your grandmother is currently your legal guardian, and in your parents' wills, they have intimated that she is responsible for you in the case of their inability to care for you. However...”

“Grandma takes great care of us,” Akari said quickly. “She does a great job.”

“And I'm sure she does. But we have records here stating that she has been deemed unfit to work. If there isn't a stable situation here, it might be better to place you with other families.”

Akari's heart lurched. She swallowed. Calm. She had to be calm. She breathed a few times to steady herself, the way her mother had taught her, and then settled into what her mother called the “power position.” She sat straight backed, feet on the floor, hands resting lightly on top of each other on her lap, steeling her face and meeting the man's eyes firmly. _This is how you convince people that you're in control_ , her mother had told her. _Remember, Akari—control and power are all illusions. If you can fool people into thinking you're more powerful than them, then you already are._

“Sir,” she said, keeping her voice even. “I'm going to be graduating in a few months. I'm already applying for jobs, so I'm sure something like that will be unnecessary—”

“Tsukumo-san.”

Akari lost her momentum with a shuddering halt. She had already lost it—her illusion was gone. A shiver passed through her as she dropped his gaze. He was looking at her steadily, and she _thought_ that maybe, just maybe, she could see his lips turning down slightly and his eyes softening. When he spoke next, his voice was less professional, and more gentle.

“Tsukumo-san...you will not be a legal adult for two more years. Your grandmother has to send us proof that this family can support itself, or for your sakes...we'll have to find other arrangements.”

Akari's jaw clenched.

“You mean separating us,” she said.

“That's not what we _want_ to do. We'd do everything in our power to place you and your brother in the same home.”

“But that sounds like there's the possibility that it might not happen. And either way, we leave baa-san.”

She met his eyes then. They were dark, distant, yes, but they were also...sad.

He sighed, his shoulders rising and falling.

“Tsukumo-san, we're here to help you,” he said. “We only want to make sure that you, and your brother, are able to grow up in safe and healthy environments.”

“You can't take him,” she blurted in spite of herself. “You can't—he'll get chewed up out there.”

He met her eyes.

“Then, you and your grandmother are going to have to make certain that we don't have to push that avenue.”

He opened up his briefcase and withdrew a thin sheaf of papers.

“This is the paperwork you and your grandmother will need to fill out. We'll require proof of income and a few other things. If you have any questions, you can call us.”

Akari tried to still the treacherous tremble in her fingers as she reached for the papers, taking them and flipping through them briefly. Her heart sank at all the legalese and boxes to fill in.

He rose, then, and she hurried to stand up too.

“You'll have three weeks to file that with us. After that point, we'll make our decision on what needs to be done here.”

He lifted his briefcase back up, and hesitated. His eyes met hers briefly.

“We're not in the business of breaking up families,” he said. “I hope that you understand that.”

He waited for a breath. Akari didn't trust herself to speak, so she just nodded. She walked from the room, leading him back to the door. They both hesitated at the door as she opened it for him and waited. He looked at her one last time. Then he nodded, and stepped back out into the cold winter night.

Akari closed the door. She sank back against it, sliding down to the floor. The papers were crumpling against the floor beside her but she wasn't really thinking.

_They could take him away._

_I've already lost kaa-san and to-san._

_Him too?_

She heard the squeak of a board under feet. In the shadows of the hallway, she could see the shape of Yuma, squinting out from the kitchen doorway.

“Nee-san?” he whispered. “Are you okay?”

Her lips, her mouth, her throat, they were all too dry to answer. She swallowed a few times, licking her chapped lips. She opened her mouth and closed it again. She picked up the papers from her side and stared at them for a moment, the way that the wrinkles caught the half light from the streetlamps outside the window.

Yuma stepped into the hallway. His feet were quiet in his socks as he padded over to her and knelt down, frowning.

“Nee-san, what did he want?”

She could feel the lump rising up in her throat and the tears threatening to spill over her cheeks. For a moment, all she wanted to do was throw her arms around him and hold tight and never, ever let go.

His hands were full, though, she realized. His fingers were slipping and sliding cards back and forth in his fingers. He bit his lip as he pushed the top card of the Duel Monsters deck back and forth, off of the deck and back onto it, pushing halves of the deck against each other in a nervous motion.

“ _Yuma has a lot in store for him.”_

“ _Will you keep an eye on him, especially when he's dueling?”_

“ _Take care of him, won't you?”_

_Laying sprawled on the floor with her hand over her head trying not to cry goddamn fuck this stupid card game—_

Akari couldn't stop herself from shaking. Her eyes wouldn't leave those cards. Those stupid, stupid cards for that stupid, stupid game. What was so _special_ about dueling? What was it about dueling that had made her parents talk to her in that car all that time ago, and her father had told her that Yuma had something in store for him that might involve dueling or something, she had no idea, her memory wasn't being helpful to her right now, but either way those stupid, stupid _cards—_

_If Yuma has a destiny—_

_If he does what I did—_

_If those assholes find out about me or him and what happens when we play this game—_

_Is this game somehow going to take him from me?_

_The way that kaa-san and to-san are gone?_

Her hand moved even before she realized it. The back of her hand smacked into Yuma's hand and he gasped as the cards went flying from his fingers. Scattering like petals, fluttering over and over themselves before hitting the floor.

Yuma gasped and immediately dropped down to scrabble for the fallen cards. But Akari grabbed him by the shoulders.

“No! I don't want—I don't want you to play this game anymore!”

Yuma's eyes widened at her, his mouth dropping open and his bottom lip starting to tremble.

“N-nee-san, I don't—”

Akari staggered to her feet, pulling him away from the fallen cards.

“That's enough, I don't want you dueling anymore, not ever, I don't want you to—”

— _to disappear. I can't—I can't watch you disappear the way they did—_

“Nee-san! Nee-san!”

Yuma was practically screaming, trying to pull himself out of her grip, but she yanked him into her arms and lifted him up even though he was almost too gangly for her to do that anymore. He screamed and kicked his legs out, his arms reaching past her head for the cards.

Akari was sobbing, squeezing him as tightly as she could, trying to stumble up the stairs as he struggled and shrieked in her arms.

“My god, Akari, Yuma, what is—”

Grandma appeared at the top of the steps as Akari lost her footing on the stairs and she yelped as she almost tumbled forward on top of Yuma. At the last moment, she was able to twist herself in midair so that she landed on her back with Yuma on top of her. The air whooshed out of her lungs as her back struck the edge of the steps and Yuma tumbled forward out of her arms. He immediately scrambled off towards the cards, and Akari was only barely able to stagger up and grab his wrist, pulling him back to her in a tight, possessive hug.

Grandma was shouting, trying to figure out what was going on, and Yuma was yelling and crying and pounding his fists on Akari's shoulders with very little force, over and over _“nee-san, nee-san, why, why, why, why—_ ”

And she couldn't answer. She could only sit there and hold him as he wriggled and let the tears roll down her cheeks as she felt his warm bulk in her grip and thought—

_God, please don't take him away too._

* * *

The cards were gone from the floor of the entryway in the morning. Akari didn't know if Yuma had sneaked downstairs after she had put him to bed, or if grandma had picked them up. She didn't care. She never wanted to see those damn things ever again—she didn't want to look at them and see the ghostly image of her father's hands flipping through the cards one at a time, showing Yuma each holographic face and laughing as Yuma's eyes shone at the way that the artwork caught the light.

Yuma skittered nervously around the edge of the kitchen, skirting around where she sat at the table, still looking at newspapers and classified ads, hoping for something. Anything.

She looked up at him, but he would not look at her.

Her chest tightened as she stared at the back of his head. He opened up the fridge and stood there for a little too long looking at what was inside. Her mouth opened for a moment to tell him to pick what he wanted and then close the door before he wasted anymore energy. Her mouth hung open for a few breaths. Then she closed it again, and dropped her eyes back to the newspaper.

What right did she have to act like his mother, anyway?

Yuma did not eat his breakfast in the kitchen. He took it and skittered back to his room. She could hear his feet on the steps and the sound of the trap door plopping open, and then shut again. She was pretty sure she heard the sound of him shoving boxes next; probably blocking the door shut again.

Her fingers tightened on the sides of the newspapers and tore a hole through it on one side.

She let her head drop slowly to the table. Tears were already bubbling in her eyes.

_God, what have I done?_

What had come over her last night? She was—she shouldn't be acting like this. Dammit... _dammit_...he wouldn't even look at her...

She heard the tappy sound of slippers on the kitchen floor and turned her head on its side so that she could see her grandmother walking into the room. Her wrinkles looked deeper than normal. She was holding that damn envelope in her hand, finally slit open after Akari had ignored it.

“Why didn't you tell me that we had gotten something from Heartland Child Services?” her grandmother asked, her voice so quiet that Akari could barely hear it.

Akari didn't lift her head from the table, dropping her eyes away from her grandmother's gaze.

“I didn't want to worry anyone. I thought I could handle it.”

She chanced a glance at her grandmother again and saw the lips turn downward slightly. She almost flinched—she hated that look. The barest hint of subtle disappointment. A look that said, _apparently not._

Her grandmother shuffled to the table and set the envelope down on it. Neither of them spoke for a very long time.

“...I'm sorry,” Akari finally said.

“I'm not the one you should be apologizing to.”

Akari closed her eyes and turned her face, pressing it into the table again, her arms coming up to fence herself in.

“Why did you tell Yuma that he can't duel anymore?”

“To-san said that Yuma's dueling could put him in danger.”

“And so you decided to go off on the one thing that Yuma has left of your father?”

Akari's hands tightened.

“Yuma's not the only one that hurts,” she said, her voice cracking.

“You think I don't know that?”

“I can't...baa-san, I _can't._ I can't do this.”

She lifted her head, hands pressing into the table, shoulders shaking.

“I can't be kaa-san and to-san _and_ nee-san all at once! I can't—I can't do this. I can't do _any_ of this...”

Her grandmother didn't respond. She only sighed, deeply, and then she walked around the table with cracking knees and put her hands on Akari's shoulders, drawing the girl against her.

“Sh, sh,” she murmured, running a hand through Akari's hair. “I'm here. I'm still here.”

And Akari felt like she was six years old again, burying her face into grandma's shoulder and wrapping her arms perhaps a little too tightly around her tiny, bony frame, and sobbed into her grandmother's embrace.

Her grandmother held her, then, for a long time, just stroking her hair, humming softly, a tune that was somehow familiar and yet...not. A melody from a long ago dream that she couldn't quite remember, a place of darkness and warmth and tiny sparks of red floating around in the air like dust, and a giant door staring down at her from the end of a jagged path.

She tried to push the thoughts of that away. They brought goosebumps to her skin and a shudder down her spine. But the same thought pulsed through her again and again no matter how hard she tried.

_Where is that door taking me? Where is it taking all of us?_

The ringing of the phone sounded like an explosion to Akari's ears and she jerked out of her grandmother's grip with a start. For a moment, her heart stopped in her chest as the irrational part of her thought— _oh god, it's Heartland Child Services, they're calling because it's too late and I don't have a job and I haven't turned in the papers on time and they're going to take Yuma away—_

Her grandmother was the first to react, shuffling across the floor to the landline, picking it up with a snap and pressing it to her ear.

“Tsukumo Residence...ah, Akari-chan, it's for you.”

Akari froze where she sat. But grandma didn't _look_ uncertain or nervous so...maybe it was one of Akari's friends? Why wouldn't they call her D-Gazer then? Or wait that _was_ in the next room over so maybe she had forgotten to check it in a while...?

In a half daze, she stumbled across the floor to take the phone from her grandmother's hand.

“...hello?”

“God, _finally_ , I've been calling and texting you for _ages!_ Why don't you have your D-Gazer on you?”

“Tetsuko?” Akari said, blinking. Her friend Tetsuko wasn't really the kind of person that called _or_ texted. She was the kind of person that would just show up at the house, announce that they were going someplace, and drag Akari off to the train to visit the next city over or some other ridiculous adventure. Sometimes skipping school in the process. Usually it was under the pretense of them getting some kind of scoop for the school newspaper that they were both on, but most of the time Tetsuko just ended up taking pictures of cute people to squeal over with a bewildered Akari later, who personally was not attracted to mohawks and crop tops the way that Tetsuko was. Pictures that would be of absolutely no use to whatever article that Akari had written based on their trip.

But one way or another, the fact that Takeda Tetsuko was trying to get a hold of Akari through the phone meant that something was up.

“Who else?” Tetsuko said, laughing. “Listen, I'm about fifteen minutes from your house, I'm coming to pick you up right now.”

“Tetsuko, this isn't really the time—”

“No, no, listen, I gave you some excess warning because I need to make sure you're ready—Heartland Daily is hiring and I just put your name down for an interview in a half hour.”

“You _what?_ ”

“Yeah, see, my uncle's got a column going there but he's retiring soon and they need someone to pick up the slack—I showed him some of the stuff you've written for the school newspaper and he's super impressed! He wants you to come in ASAP.”

“W—now??”

“That's what ASAP means, girl! Put on something professional and grab your makeup, you can do it in the car. Oh! And bring that portfolio of yours, the one that you were putting together for college apps? He'll wanna see that.”

There was a loud honk on the other end and then the sound of Tetsuko screaming and swearing at someone out the window. Akari had to hold the phone away from her ear for a moment while Tetsuko finished her tirade.

“Whew, sorry about that! Asshole just cut me off!” Tetsuko said. “Okay, fifteen minutes, and I'm gonna be there. Get ready okay??”

And she hung up with a click, leaving Akari standing there with the phone hanging from her hand and her mouth open. She might have stood there in a daze for the whole fifteen minutes if her grandmother hadn't touched her shoulder to pull her out of the daze.

“What was that about, Akari?” her grandmother asked.

Akari felt tears bubbling in her eyes and she had to put a hand over her mouth to still the sob of relief that was just about to pour out of her.

“Tetsuko found—oh, god, I have to try and get ready, she found an interview for me, I can't mess this up—”

She bolted without anymore explanation, taking the stairs two at a time and barreling for her room.

But she paused just outside of Yuma's room. Hesitated with her hand on the door frame, her eyes searching the darkness for the trapdoor that was closed tightly shut.

_That's not safe,_ she thought. _If he gets in trouble, I won't be able to get up there...especially if he's got boxes on top of the door like I think he does._

She wondered if he was looking at those damn cards even right now. Probably reorganizing them over and over like he did when he didn't know what else to do with himself. Her hands tightened on the doorframe and she felt another burst of rage at that game, that stupid game that her father had taught them how to play and always pretended like it was some kind of magical game would make people happy, that would forge bonds, friendships, make people safe. A _farce._

That game only hurt people.

The rage faded. Her hand slackened.

She sent one last look to the trapdoor, and then she hurried to her own room to get ready. Later. She could talk to him about it later.

Right now, she had to make sure this went through. She had to make sure that she could keep Yuma safe. She had to.

Later, she could talk to him.

And later...later she could start figuring out what the hell had happened to her parents.

The thought made her hesitate for a breath in between changing clothes. And that was when she realized just how true that was. She wasn't going to quit. Not by a long shot.

_You guys can't just walk out on us_ , she thought angrily towards her parents. _I won't let you._

 


	12. XII

_“We have come to a conclusion.  The memories used to forge the homunculus are corrupt.  We must obtain pure memories._

_The Barian Protocol is going into effect tomorrow.”_

_ln 18, pg 21, Astral Project Journal 3. Author lost._

* * *

 

 Kaito dreamed of stars.

He floated in the abyss of space, his eyes only half open, seeing the glimmer of stars through his eyelashes, so incredibly close to him but far out of his reach.  The darkness wrapped around him, whispering, gentle, a mother's arms that enfolded him inside.

On the backs of his eyelids, he saw galaxies.  They were a pair: one pale blue, one deep red. 

They swirled in opposite directions—their paths crashed together at the edges.  There was a cracking and a groaning between them that he shouldn't have been able to hear in the depths of space, and he shuddered.  His brain conjured up the sound of faint screams—from which world?  From both?  He didn't think he wanted to know.

The screams faded as the darkness wrapped tighter around him _._

 _No.  That is not for you to hear_.

Kaito wanted to ask the voice what they meant.  What wasn't for him to hear?  The screams?  The groaning of the worlds fighting for dominance with each other?  If it wasn't for him to hear, then who was supposed to hear it?

He opened his mouth, but no words escaped his lips, despite how hard he tried.  The darkness seemed to pull the sound away from him before it could even be born.  He felt something...sad in the dark.  Something mournful in the way it curled around him like leathery wings, pulling him away from the vision of the two worlds and bringing him into the cradle of the stars instead.

_I am sorry._

_I didn't mean to put this burden on you._

_I promised that I wouldn't fail you._

_But we all promised that, didn't we?_

_We weren't strong enough._

_None of us were, in the end._

Who was speaking?  The voice was familiar, but the place it came from danced just out of reach of Kaito's mind.  He strained to remember.  His head was starting to hurt as he tried.

_Please look._

_I am what remains._

_I will leave you with what I can._

And then the dragon was there.

Kaito sucked in a breath but there was no sound to go with the motion.  The dragon cradled him to its chest, its talons gently curled around his small body.  Its wings glowed to rival the stars, the pulsing of warm, pale green that encircled him with a comforting heat.

And the head curled down to look at him, one eye staring right at him.  Galaxies swirled in the depths.

_Look._

_You have to look._

_I'm sorry._

_But you have to see._

He looked.  His eyes searched deep into the eyes of the dragon, watching the stars circle and swirl inside.  Kaito gasped.

He didn't see her eyes anymore.

First, he stared down at a pale, gray, rocky landscape, cold and harsh and pockmarked with craters—the moon?  There was something there, a scar on the ground that didn't look to be made by celestial attacks, but by something—human.  Or…human-like, at the very least.  A scarring, like runes, carved into the ground—they meant something but he didn't know what.  He could feel the meaning vibrating in his chest but his brain could not translate it.

Then he was shooting through the stars, watching them flash past him, shining with colors that didn't make sense and that he would never be able to describe, and he was staring then at a hill that overlooked a small, warmly colored town that glowed with the smell of mud bricks and the bustle of people calling out to each other.

There was a tree at the top of that hill, as thick as the pillar of a mighty temple with roots arching delicately up and back into the ground so that it was a web at the bottom.  The branches rose high into the sky, clothed thickly with bright pink flowers.  A breeze caught the petals, sending them scattering into the air.

An unmarked stone sat at the base of the tree.  Or rather, not unmarked, but worn away by time, the remains of the words barely etched into the stone, covered with moss so that the inscription could no longer be read.

And against that stone sat a boy, not much older than Kaito himself.  Fifteen, at most.

He sat with his back against the stone, his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms loosely hugging his legs.  He gazed up into the sky with a faraway, lost look.  As though he weren't truly there.

He wore clothes that reminded Kaito of his history books, a loose fitting tunic and wrapped sandals.  Fair skinned, with dark hair—except for the crimson of his bangs that fluttered in the breeze.

_These last memories._

_They must be forged._

_Yours, and his._

_There are still memories to be welded into the circuit._

_You mustn't forget._

_The last Numbers are upon us._

_The map_ must _be completed._

_Time and light must be forged together to lead him to the last path._

The scene ripped away, as though sucked into a vacuum tube.

“Wait!”

His voice finally broke through.

“What—what do you mean?  What does this mean?”

The darkness _hummed_ around him, rattling his bones and up through his brain.  He had to clap his hands to his ears, but the voice still broke through him as though it were piercing into his very bones.

_I am what remains._

_This is all I can give you._

_I'm sorry._

_Forgive me, Kaito, my love._

_We should not have left this burden to our children._

_But I am all that's left of her._

_And this is all she left for you._

Then the dragon released him and then Kaito was falling, falling, falling, crying out, trying to reach for that remnant of dream that had vanished between the stars, grabbing at tendrils of nothing—

Kaito snapped awake, throat choked and gasping.  He couldn’t see—oh, damn, he couldn’t move, why did his face feel like something was being driven through it—

The paralysis of sleep released him, and he found that the pain in his cheek was from the gear he had fallen asleep on.  Wincing, he lifted himself off of the offending part.  At least he hadn’t broken it.  When…had he fallen asleep?

In the chair beside him, Haruto was curled up under his jacket.  Kaito remembered getting up to put the jacket on the sleeping ball of his brother, but he didn’t remember sitting back down to this work.  Well…at least Haruto was still sleeping soundly.

The pieces lay neatly out before him, his tools still resting under his hands, as though he had fallen asleep in the middle of putting something on to his robot project.  He curled his hand around the wrench—cold, metal, solid.  It brought him fully back into reality—although the remnants of the dream remained a strange, sickly pit in his stomach.

 _Got to stop staying up so late, maybe_ , he thought uneasily.

At the back of his mind, he heard the lullaby that his mother used to sing for him and Haruto.  The dragonsong.  It came so clearly, now…was it getting stronger?  Or was he just more tired than he had thought?

He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm.  Not important.  It wasn’t important.  What was important was finishing this project.  For Haruto.  Nothing else was important but making sure that Haruto was safe.

Upstairs, he heard the slamming of doors—the faint muffled shouting.  He tried to restrain his wince again, to stop the tremble that started unbidden in his hands, a traitorous shudder that started whenever his father’s voice took that tone.  Haruto shifted in his sleep, his tiny face screwed up and his fists curled into Kaito’s jacket.

Kaito’s tremble stilled.  He swallowed thickly at the sounds of stomping and shouting still echoing upstairs.  But he reached for Haruto, and stroked his mussed hair down gently.

He didn’t have the time to be afraid, or confused, or falling asleep.

Haruto needed him.


	13. XIII

“ _From that first melody, the first stars began to shine. Bolstered by the light, the dragon continued to sing. With every pulse of its heart, a new piece of the universe was born.”_

-the Heartbeat Cycles. Author unknown.

* * *

 Try again. Lua couldn't have really meant it, right? Maybe, if he tried again, Lua would be waiting there. He had to try again. It was scary, but—but the Dream World was his, too, right?? Lua had said so! So even if Lua wasn't there, Yuma could still go, because it was his too! Lua didn't get to say when Yuma got to go to his own little world. And those stupid nightmares, they weren't supposed to be there. Yuma would beat them up this time! Yeah! He'd chase them out, and then Lua would have to come back, and they'd be so proud of him!

Yuma couldn't remember when his thoughts stopped, or when they were broken up by the sunlight drifting through the window into his eyes. He groaned, throwing both arms over his eyes.

“Yuma!” Akari shouted from downstairs. “Yuma, you're gonna be late for school!”

Right...it was morning....

And then Yuma's eyes flew open and he shot straight up in his hammock, the whole thing swaying from side the side with the movement and almost dumping him onto the floor. Morning?? Already? But—but he hadn't had time to get the Dream World yet! He hadn't—

He couldn't remember how.

Yuma felt his entire body go rigid as his eyes fixed distantly on some random spot on the wall. His hands curled into the hammock, curling the webbing into his fists. His throat was dry, tongue like sandpaper. He couldn't remember how to get to the Dream World. He couldn't— _remember_.

He had tried, hadn't he? He had...how had he gotten there before? It had just been something he could do, like, like breathing. It was easy, simple, like slipping to sleep.

All of a sudden, he felt like his brain was gripped with a wide-eyed insomnia. It was like forgetting how to fall asleep. He had _forgotten_ how to get to the Dream World.

“ _People forget how to get here,”_ Lua had said once.

Yuma had become one of those people.

He had become one of the ones to forget.

He wanted to scream, wanted to cry, but his eyes were too dry and his throat was too tight. He couldn't even get off of his hammock. He couldn't move. No, no, no, it couldn't be true. If he didn't remember how to go, he couldn't come back when Lua finally came back. Oh! Maybe Lua had blocked him off somehow? So that he wouldn't get there again. Maybe it was just a fluke. He hadn't gone for a few nights after that scare with the nightmares so maybe he was rusty. Maybe....maybe...

His eyes slowly, slowly dropped down to the floor, to the drawings he had made of the Dream World. His crayon sketches of that purple world, vast and beautiful, with the stars overhead. His drawings looked...so inadequate. They were just _scribbles_. The haphazard lines of purple couldn't possibly capture all of the hues, the deep purple woods with their luminescent leaves, the vast shimmering ocean full of stars—couldn't capture _any of it_. They were—they weren't enough. They weren't enough for him to remember what it all looked like—

Bile suddenly rose up in his throat.

What if it had all just been a dream?

His hands tightened so much into the hammock that it pinched the whole thing and he dumped himself out onto the floor, landing heavily on his drawings with a thwump.

“Yuma?” Akari called up the stairs. “You okay? What was that?”

Yuma just lay there across his scattered drawings. He felt his hands shaking, crinkling some of the edges of a few of them. He still couldn't make a sound. He didn't know how anymore.

How could he know that any of it had been real? He hadn't brought anything with him from that world. He didn't have land creating powers here to prove that he had actually made a world then. Recurring dreams were rare and his was pretty detailed, but how on earth did he know if any of it had actually been real?? How did he know that....that like everyone at school had said...it wasn't...just his imagination? Just a dream? _Not real_.

He felt like he was drowning. This had never, ever occurred to him before. He didn't have any way to know. No keepsakes from that world except his own thoughts and his drawings, which he could have made up. No marks left on his body from run ins with nightmares or when he fell and scraped his knee in that world. Nothing. Just his own mind telling him it was real.

He could hear Akari's feet on the stairs.

“Seriously, Yuma, are you going to answer me?? Don't make me come up there.”

Fake. It could have all been fake. He could have imagined it. Just a little kid's dream. Just like all the kids at school always told him.

Fake. Fake. _Fake—_

A cry escaped his throat as the tears finally found their way out of his eyes, splattering over his drawings. He shoved to his knees and grabbed a handful of them into his fists. He heard Akari's hand banging on the trap door at the sound of his cry, heard her voice asking if he was okay without hearing the words fully.

He ripped his drawings in half.

At the sound of the ripping paper, Akari finally pushed the door open with a snap and a fwump and shoved her head inside. She saw Yuma reaching for another pile of drawings and digging his nails into them to start to rip them to pieces. Her eyes widened as she scrambled up and over the lip of the floor.

“Yuma! Yuma, oh my god, what's wrong, what are you doing—”

She grabbed his hands before he could grab a third handful. He screamed, trying to pull himself free, kicking out at her knees, but she wouldn't let go, trying to drag him against her and crush him in a hug, tried to pin his arms to his chest.

“Oh my god, what's wrong, god fuck fuck fuck what is going on, are you okay, Yuma please, stop!”

“It wasn't real!” Yuma screamed into her shoulder as he kept flailing, trying to get to those horrible, horrible drawings—he needed to get rid of them, all of them. “It wasn't real, it wasn't real, it wasn't real—”

“Oh, sh sh sh, Yuma, it's okay, sh sh sh—”

She didn't understand! He had thought—he had thought—

 _Lua isn't real_ , he thought. _I made them up._

And that thought more than anything is what killed every bit of emotion he had left. He slumped all at once into Akari's arms and she swore again as he almost slid free of her. She got her hands under his waist and lifted him up.

“Sh....sh....”

Her hand stroked through his hair at a steady rhythm,

“It wasn't real,” Yuma mumbled. “It wasn't real. Lua wasn't real.”

“Yuma...”

“Everyone leaves,” Yuma said. “ _Kaasan_ and _tosan_ and Lua....Lua wasn't even here.”

He curled his fingers tightly into Akari's shirt and buried his face into her chest.

“Don't go away.”

Her hands tightened around him, curled into his hair and hugged him tighter.

“Never,” she said, her voice cracking. “Never, ever, ever. I'll never go away. I'll always be right here. I promise.”

The tears wouldn't be held back now. They rose up in his chest like a tidal wave and it was all he could do just to stay upright in Akari's arms. His remaining drawings lay crumpled beneath his knees.

He didn't ask about them later when they disappeared. He didn't want to know where Akari had put them.

Lua wasn't real. His parents were gone. The Dream World was his imagination. Miracles didn't exist.

Maybe it was time for him to accept it.

 


	14. XIV

“ _Willful hearts/always fail/to see that good in darkness pales/light in evil surely hides/behind the blinding of our eyes.”_

-Path Song. Traditional.

* * *

Akari felt like she didn't breathe until Yuma was out of the house, safely on his way to school. She almost wanted to walk all the way there with them, in case that he hurt himself or did something stupid...but the school wasn't far, and she could watch him for most of the way there....

Her work was waiting for her to finish it on the desk, almost glaring at her. She winced softly—then turned away from it, and the window, and went to make coffee. She snatched her D-Gazer from the table as she waited for it to brew, making a brief call to the school to make sure Yuma had gotten there.

“Oh, yes, he's just been checked on the attendance sheet,” the receptionist said over the line. “Is anything the matter, Tsukumo-san? Should I tell the teachers to keep an eye on him today?”

Akari hesitated—Yuma would be so upset with her if he knew she was doing this, but...

“Yes, please...he's taking our parents' disappearance really hard, and I want to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.”

The woman nodded, looking sympathetic on the screen.

“We'll take care of him, honey. If you need to, we can have someone walk him home.”

“No...no that's fine. I'll come pick him up.”

The woman nodded. She looked like she wanted to say something more, but then she shook her head. After a bit, Akari ended the call, tossing the D-Gazer back onto the desk.

She could _feel_ the bags sinking into her eyes as she finally got her coffee in her hands. She hadn't slept much the last couple of days...not since she had gotten that job at the newspaper. She was _determined_ to keep it by becoming as indispensable as possible. She had taken on a few other type-editing pieces that someone else was supposed to do because they were leaving early for kids' birthdays or long weekends, just so that she could prove that she was dependable. Sure, she had her own column that she'd be starting as soon as the former columnist officially retired, but columnists didn't last long unless they could do something else, too. She'd have to get her foot in the door for filtering and broadcasting, that was where the stability was. That meant a lot of sleepless nights doing extra type editing....

….and more sleepless nights worrying about Yuma.

She blew softly on her coffee, letting the steam and the scent wash over her face. She let her eyes wander over to the little box she had hidden behind the bread box...where she had locked away the drawings she had managed to save from Yuma's rampage.

She wanted to open it up, look at them. But she didn't.

 _Lua was so important to him_ , she thought. _That imaginary friend was...was almost everything to him._

She could remember him talking late into the night, chattering away like a monkey about his latest exploits to their laughing mother as she bounced him on her knee. Mom always knew exactly what questions to ask to keep Yuma chattering. She could almost see them, in her mind's eye, balancing on the couch. Yuma was kicking his legs, his tiny hands playing with their mother's hair and her face tilting with a laugh as she pinched Yuma's cheek. She could see the door opening, and her father clomping in with some kind of mud on his face, a belly laugh reserved just for Yuma's squeal as he scrambled over their mother's knees to run around the couch and throw his arms around their father's legs.

Akari gasped as she realized that she was crying. She quickly drowned her mouth into the scalding coffee, more tears rolling down her face from the burn that immediately overtook her tongue. At least she had an excuse now, if grandma walked in.

Grandma did not walk in, though, and Akari was left with a swollen tongue and half a mug less of coffee than she would have liked.

She sighed, letting the edge of the counter dig into the small of her back as she leaned back, closing her eyes. At least she didn't have to physically go into work today...as long as she turned those finished edits in by midnight, she was solid.

She slumped a little harder against the counter. What she really wanted to do was throw this mug as hard as she could against the wall and let it shatter into a million pieces, let the coffee stain the wall and seep down into the floor. She wanted to scream like Yuma had, she wanted to start ripping paper apart into pieces and screaming and kicking and breaking furniture. She wanted to flip the whole table upside down and scream out into the sky at her parents _to fucking come back you fucking assholes._

_You left us._

_You_ left _us._

Akari couldn't find it in herself to think of it any other way. Her parents were seasoned adventurers, they had been on more dangerous missions and excursions than a fucking Mission Impossible agent, there was no way that the jungle would just swallow them up without warning. They wouldn't disappear like that. They wouldn't _die_ like that. The only possibility that Akari could come up with was that they had _chosen_ to leave...but _why_?? Why weren't they here?

They left her, with nothing but a broken house and a little brother who looked like he was going to start jumping off bridges sooner rather than later.

 _I shouldn't have taken his cards from him_ , Akari thought suddenly. _Those—what if those were the only things that were keeping him sane?_

“ _Yuma's dueling will one day lead to a greater destiny.”_

Was that one of the last things her parents had said to her? She couldn't really remember how much time had passed before that car trip and the day that they had both left on that emergency job of theirs. She knew they had left before going with her to that dueling tournament she was writing a piece on, even though her father had promised he'd come along. She knew he would have apologized a million times if he had even remembered, but she hadn't bothered to bring it up. She had learned not to bring things up with her parents.

And then, just like that, they were gone.

“ _Yuma's dueling will one day lead to a greater destiny...and maybe, yours will too.”_

Akari felt _sick_.

“No,” she mumbled. “I'm not going to duel anymore. And neither is Yuma.”

She wasn't going to lose anyone ever again. Not to this card game, not to an adventure, and not to any fucking stupid _destiny._

She set her coffee mug down without finishing it and stalked back to her desk.

She had work to do.

 


	15. XV

“ _The newest homunculus was able to host the Code for fifteen minutes—the Barian Protocol must be working. Not everyone agrees—rebels have sprung up against the Protocol. Don't they understand that if we do not root out the corruption among ourselves, we will perish?”_

_\- ln 4, pg 46, Astral Project Journal 3. Author lost._

 

Kaito licked his lips nervously. The tower in front of him was so tall he felt like it was bending over, ready to topple down on top of him if he didn’t keep an eye on it. The sky hung low and heavy with dark clouds, a faint spray of mist hanging around the top of the tower so that everything looked far duller and less colorful than it was supposed to. It was as if the air was bleaching the color out of the green and yellow paint that coated the building, dulling the bright red heart on the top.

Haruto was uncharacteristically silent beside him, gripping Kaito’s fingers so tightly that he thought his bones might break. He gripped back, though, trying to make sure Haruto knew he was there. Haruto had just gotten quieter and quieter the past few years, and sometimes Kaito was afraid he would look down and his brother would be gone, turned into smoke and blown away.

The doors slid open at the foot of the building and he tore his eyes away from the giant heart at the top.

“You’re early!” came the sickeningly cheerful voice of Mr. Heartland. Kaito tensed up as the man appeared from the doorway, practically flouncing over to them.

He briefly gripped their father’s hand in a handshake, and then flashed a smile at Kaito and Haruto. Kaito couldn’t find more than a scowl in return. Heartland made him… _uncomfortable._ Both the man, and the city.

 _I want to go home_ , he thought. _Back to the fields and forests. Back to mom’s house._

It had come as a shock when his father announced they were moving into Heartland Tower. Kaito knew that his father had a space there; he had spent a few weeks now and then on business trips to talk about city planning and design. But there had never, ever been talk of leaving home. Not before mom died. _The city is no place for children,_ his father had said so long ago _. I should know because I helped build the damn thing—you’re better off where you can run around freely, where the air isn’t thick and smoky._

But here they were, and Kaito already felt like the air was trying to strangle them. If Haruto was sick, as his father insisted, why would they come here? Wasn’t the country healthier for him?

“Welcome, welcome,” Mr. Heartland said, grabbing Kaito’s free hand and shaking it. Kaito’s lip curled and he tried to pull his hand free. He didn’t get free until Heartland let him go, though, and he quickly wiped his palm off on his pants.

“Kaito, don’t be rude,” his father said roughly. “Mr. Heartland has been gracious enough to offer his help with Haruto’s illness.”

 _He’s not sick_ , Kaito thought, tensing as he met Mr. Heartland’s gaze. That smile looked so fake. _He’s depressed, if anything. He’s not sick._

“We have some of the finest medical resources in the world at Heartland Tower, thanks in part, of course, to you yourself funding this city’s design, Dr. Tenjo.”

Kaito’s father merely grunted in affirmative.

“Let’s get Haruto in out of this horrid weather,” he said. “Come on, boys.”

Haruto’s fingers tightened around Kaito’s hand as he started to walk forward. Kaito hesitated, glancing down at his little brother.

His eyes were so _dull_. It looked wrong.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.

Haruto only stared. And then, after a few beats, he started walking again, and this time it was Kaito who had to catch up.

The inside lobby was as cold and dull as the world outside. Clearly, this was not normal business hours, as the reception desk was empty and there wasn’t a single person in any of the seats at the front. What was this building even really for, anyway? It was a symbol for Heartland City, and Kaito thought he had heard it was some kind of information desk for visitors, plus of course the lodgings upstairs for business trips, but apparently now it had medical facilities too?

 _It’s cold_ , Kaito thought. _Haruto will be shivering_ …

He automatically shrugged off his own light jacket, letting go of Haruto’s hand long enough to drape it over his shoulders. Haruto instinctively gripped the edges of the coat to pull it around him, and Kaito placed a hand on his shoulder, holding his brother against his waist gently.

Heartland and Kaito’s father were still talking about one thing or another as they lead the way to the back of the room and through the doors to the hallway behind, but Kaito was more focused on Haruto.

“Are you doing okay?” he whispered.

Haruto looked up at him, but didn’t answer. So quiet…so still…he wasn’t at all like the cheerful, squirming, excitable child that Kaito remembered, the one that he had to try so hard to hold on to before he ran off on some new adventure. Kaito’s heart clenched up. Maybe…maybe Haruto really _was_ sick.

The sound of boots caught Kaito’s attention, and he looked up. His chest tensed and he tightened his grip on Haruto’s shoulder. There were three men approaching down the hallway, two of them in what appeared to be security guard uniforms, and one in a lab coat. Kaito pulled Haruto a little closer to him instinctively. Who were these people?

“Very well, I’ll leave them in your hands for now. I’ll be in my office,” his father said, the first words that Kaito had clearly heard out of him since they had come in. His head snapped to his father, eyes wide. What did that mean? What was—where was he going?

“F-father,” he said, his voice cracking in spite of himself. “Where—”

But he was already, gone, the tail of his coat vanishing around the corner of the doorway, without even saying a word to them—not even a glance in their direction.

Leaving them completely alone in a dark, cold hallway with nothing but the strange men and Heartland’s leering smile.

“All right, Mr. Haruto, we’re going to have you checked up first,” Mr. Heartland said.

Kaito tightened his grip on Haruto, tried to pull him closer, but one of the security men came forward and grabbed Haruto by the arm. Haruto let out a frightened squeak—the first sound he had made all day.

“Don’t pull on him like that!” Kaito said. “You’ll scare him!”

“We just need to run a few tests,” the man in the lab coat said.

“I’m going too, then,” Kaito said.

“Best leave this to the professionals, Kaito-kun,” Mr. Heartland said with a laugh, putting his hand on Kaito’s shoulder. “You and I have a few things to talk about in the meantime.”

Kaito growled and yanked his shoulder free of Mr. Heartland’s grip, pulling Haruto out of the other man’s grasp and backing up towards the wall with Haruto in his arms.

“Haruto’s not going anywhere without me,” he said. “You can talk to me after I watch him during his tests.”

Mr. Heartland actually frowned briefly. Then he shook his head, sighing, and nodded at the security guards. One of them grabbed Kaito by the shoulder and Kaito threw himself hard away from the grip, but that was enough to distract him so that the other one could pry Haruto out of his arms.

“Niisan!” Haruto screamed, struggling to get free. “ _Niisan!_ ”

“Let him go! You can’t take him! I have to go with him!” Kaito shouted, but the other guard pinned him back against the wall and Kaito wasn’t tall enough or strong enough to wriggle free. “Haruto—Haruto!!”

“Please calm down, Kaito-kun,” Mr. Heartland said, shaking his head. “Like I said, Haruto-kun just needs to have some tests run. You act as though he’s being kidnapped.”

The guard dragged a screaming Haruto down the hall, the boy leaning back and stretching out his hand toward Kaito as his other arm was used to haul him away. The guard finally released Kaito and Kaito lost his balance after his obstacle was removed, almost falling over. He recovered and jumped to his feet. He tried to bolt forward, after Haruto—but a heavy grate dropped between him and Haruto, cutting off his path and making him skid to a stop so that he wouldn’t be crushed.

“Haruto!” he shouted, squeezing his arm between the bars to reach out for him. “Haruto!”

“Niisan!”

Haruto’s cries faded as he disappeared around the faraway corner. A heavy lump rose up in Kaito’s throat and he felt like he was choking. It was all he could do just to stay standing, and if his arm wasn’t lodged through the bars of the grate, he was certain he would have collapsed to his knees right then. Why couldn’t he have held on tighter?? Haruto was scared and Kaito—Kaito wasn’t there for him.

“There, there, Kaito-kun, you’ll see him again very soon,” Mr. Heartland soothed, the sound of his voice feeling poisonous and slimy. “I just need to explain a few things to you while Haruto gets settled in to his treatments.”

If Kaito’s legs hadn’t felt so weak, he would have whirled around right then and socked the grinning man in the jaw. As it was, he felt like he needed his hands to grip the grate so that he wouldn’t fall down.

“What things?” he hissed between his teeth, barely able to even look over his shoulder at the man.

“Things like what _you_ can do to help Haruto-kun get better.”

 _That_ got Kaito’s attention. He turned slowly, still bracing himself against the grate, eyes narrow.

“What are you talking about?”

Mr. Heartland only smiled, tapping the side of his nose.

“Come along with me, and I’ll explain everything,” he said. “That’s the job your father has given me, after all.”

Kaito didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to go anywhere with that discomforting, leering smile that never disappeared from the man’s face. He didn’t want to be anywhere near him—there was something in his blood that said _danger danger danger_.

But…if he could help Haruto…

“Fine,” he spat. “Where are we going?”

“Just down the hall,” Mr. Heartland said, beckoning. “And I’ll explain everything.”

* * *

Mr. Heartland led him to a huge, wide room, of polished metal floors and walls, lined with counters and equipment that shone with a mechanical cleanliness. Everything was neat, tidy, placed into perfectly arranged positions that indicated an intricate organization. There were tools that Kaito had no names for, and empty test tubes lined up neatly that glimmered in the pale blue-green light.

And at the center of the room was the biggest holographic projector that Kaito had ever seen.

It sat like a huge round table, at about his waist height, with a glowing blue projection of Heartland City in all its details covering the entirety of the surface. Kaito approached with his mouth hanging open, walking slowly around the projection. He could see everything—Heartland Tower, the five different dueling schools in town, every detail of the amusement park right down to the vending machines that dotted in between game booths and the swinging cars of the Ferris Wheel. Not only that, but he could see cars moving in the streets, tiny dots that must be people, moving even in the pale transparent windows of the blue projected buildings. Was this in real time? Was this a real time projection of the entire city? How was that even possible?

“Try looking up. That's more important,” Mr. Heartland said behind him.

Kaito blinked, and raised his eyes upward. His mouth dropped open in spite of himself, and he wondered for a moment if that had been there before, or if Heartland had just turned on that projection now. There was no way he could have missed it.

Two swirling galaxies, big enough to take up almost the entirety of the laboratory, their lazy trails of stars swirling in spirals. One was a pale blue-green, the sparkles sending glimmers of cold, distant light across the floor, spinning slowly outward, dots of rainbow glittering between the white and blue. Like it was some giant prism.

The other was a hot, burning red, with black dots like planets or black holes swirling within it. This one spun inwards, close, too close to the other galaxy. As if it was pulling the white into itself, dragging it towards its black center like it was some kind of black hole, ripping the white and blue galaxy to pieces as it dragged that spiral towards itself.

He swallowed with a sudden burst of understanding. He had seen these galaxies before. In the eyes of that dragon in his dreams....

“What...is that?” he said.

Mr. Heartland hopped forward beside him, pointing upwards with his cane.

“That,” he said, pointing to the blue galaxy, “is the Astral World. And that one is the Barian World.”

“What are they?” Kaito said, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible. He didn’t want Heartland to know how nervous he was.

“Dimensions,” Mr. Heartland said. “Other worlds or planes of existence.”

“You’re joking. You said this has to do with how to help Haruto.”

Heartland smiled and spread his arms out wide, gesturing with his cane.

“My dear Kaito, this has _everything_ to do with Haruto-kun.”

Kaito narrowed his eyes, suspicious. What on earth was this about?

Heartland tapped the ground with his cane, and the image of Heartland City dissipated, moving the twin galaxies down closer to the hologram table, so that they didn’t have to crane their necks to see it.

“See here?” he said, pointing to the middle of the galaxies. “These dimensions are fighting with each other. They’re getting ripped up at the edges.”

Kaito remembered seeing something like that in his dream, but he tried not to show any recognition on his face.

“So?”

“I’m sure you remember the accident that took your mother’s life.”

Kaito tensed up.

“What about it?” he said, hands rolling into fists at his sides.

Mr. Heartland smile broadly, which seemed inappropriate considering what topic he had just brought up.

“It was no terrorist attack,” he said. “It was an interdimensional accident.”

“A…a what?”

Heartland poked at the hologram.

“A hole between the worlds. Very, very rare by themselves, and usually without so much boom to them. Something irritated the small piercing between the planes of existence, and it so unfortunately coincided with the Astral and Barian worlds intersecting. Thereby causing a rather staggering disaster as the two crashing dimensions leaked their debris through the hole.”

He pointed at Kaito next.

“But, surprisingly, you and Haruto got out of it almost entirely unscathed. Why do you think that is?”

Kaito scowled.

“I think you’re making shit up,” he said. It was true that the galaxies were familiar from his dream, but…who the hell did Heartland think he was kidding?

“Doesn’t it seem odd that your brother’s mysterious illness coincides with the night of the accident?” Mr. Heartland said.

“He’s not sick,” Kaito snapped. “He’s _depressed_. Because mom is gone. There’s your fucking coincidence.”

Heartland tutted softly, as though against the obscenity. But he didn’t point it out.

“Then how would you explain the voices that your brother says he can hear?”

“He…he doesn’t hear _voices_ ,” Kaito said. “He just hears…something.”

It was from stress, or something else. It had nothing to do with…this bullshit that Mr. Heartland was spewing.

“Unfortunately, I will have to disagree with you,” Mr. Heartland said. “Because I, and your father, have reason to believe that you and your brother absorbed some of the leakage from the exploding dimensions. Haruto got the brunt of it, which is why he’s become so weak—he’s integrated too much energy from another dimension. It wasn’t meant to be in a human body.”

“I think you’re crazy.”

“Oh? Then what would you think about this?”

Mr. Heartland’s hand reached up to dig briefly into his chest pocket. Kaito felt a sudden, strange clenching in his stomach, even before the object came free.

It was a small chunk of glowing red stone that Heartland held between his fingers. And for some reason, it was making Kaito have trouble breathing.

He pressed a hand to his chest—why was his heartbeat so fast all of a sudden?

“What is that?” he said, his voice feeling choked.

“This is Barianite,” Mr. Heartland said. “A gemstone found only in the other dimensions—only in the Barian World. You can sense its power, can’t you?”

There had to be a logical explanation for why looking at the thing made Kaito feel sick. He swallowed past the bile in his throat.

“Why are you talking about stuff like this?” he said. “What is going on?”

“I’m only explaining what your father wants you to know,” Mr. Heartland said. He replaced the Barianite in his pocket and Kaito felt like he could breathe again. “You know what your father studies, don’t you? City planning pays the bills and gets the grants, but his real research is—”

“Interdimensional physics,” Kaito mumbled. He knew that. He had always known that. His father used to read his theories aloud to Kaito like bedtime stories, looking haggard and frazzled from staying up too late and trying to figure out what exactly was wrong with his formulas this time. The way his face would light up in the middle of reading it aloud, and he would jump up so fast that the chair fell over as he rushed back to the lab to fix the mistake he had just found.

But…but there wasn’t… _really_ other dimensions, was there?

“You’re saying that…that Haruto and I…absorbed the energy of another world,” he said.

“That’s exactly it.”

“But…but why aren’t _I_ sick too, then?” Kaito said. “Why aren’t I like Haruto?”

“Haruto was closer to the blast; he absorbed most of it since you were behind him,” Heartland said. “We’ll run some tests on you, too, to see just how much you have in your body and what we’ll need to do to balance out any negative effects. But we’re hoping that you and Haruto might learn how to channel that energy into something productive, and that may do the trick.”

Kaito swallowed, trying to focus on all of this new information. He basically—he basically had alien energy in his system. And so did Haruto. If…if Kaito had managed to get on top of Haruto to shield him instead of falling with Haruto on top of him…would Haruto have been okay…?

“We’re assuming that the two of you have Astral energy in your systems,” Heartland continued, shaking Kaito out of his thoughts. “That’s why you reacted so poorly to the Barianite. They’re opposing forces, you see—as you’ve noticed, they’re fighting for dominance.”

“And…and that’s bad, right?”

“It’s certainly not good for you and Haruto,” Mr. Heartland said with an inappropriate chuckle. “But don’t worry—your father has been doing a lot of research, and he’s come up with some plans to balance you out. We may be introducing small amounts of Barian energy into you and Haruto to see what we can do.”

Kaito sucked in a breath.

“You said…you said there was something _I_ could be doing to help Haruto,” he said. “What…what can I do?”

He hated the way his voice shook, but his head was spinning with so much information, so much guilt for not shielding Haruto back then, that he couldn’t keep his voice steady.

“An excellent question!” Mr. Heartland said. “Your father and I have been doing some joint research, you see, about the two worlds, and we think we have a few conclusions…first, there are, in fact, extraterrestrial beings in these two warring dimensions.”

Kaito’s eyes lifted back up to the projection of the dimensions, and he remembered his dream, with the screams lifting up from the two worlds.

“And of course, both dimensions are very, very unhappy about the other one encroaching on their territory,” Heartland continued. “They’re trying to destroy the other, as it is. And with the energy of those worlds in your blood, you and Haruto will feel some negative effects of that.”

“So…what do we do?” Kaito said.

Heartland smiled as he turned to face Kaito. He leaned his cane against the projection table so that his hands were free to grip Kaito’s shoulders. Kaito felt sick being touched by him—or maybe that was because the Barianite was getting closer again.

“We have to stop that war, of course,” he said. “Your father is taking on a mission to see what he can find about the worlds themselves, and at that point, we’ll have a stronger game plan. But for now…”

Heartland released Kaito and took his cane again, using it to swipe through the projection of the galaxies. Something else formed in its place.

Kaito almost choked.

It was her. It was the dragon from his dreams.

It took everything he had not to reach out towards the hologram and try to put his hand against the dragon’s head. He only barely concealed his shock and recognition—but not enough.

“Ah, I see you recognize it,” Heartland said. “I wasn’t mistaken, then. Your encounter with the other world’s energy has awakened some latent power in you.”

“What—what are you talking about?”

“You can hear it, can’t you?” Heartland said softly. “You can hear the dragon calling out to you.”

Was…was that what it was? The memory of his mother’s lullaby, the dragonsong…it was…it was a dragon? Calling out to him?

“Haruto-kun can hear the sounds from the Astral World with his power and connection,” Heartland said. “Your father and I believed you may be able to hear something else. The Galaxy-Eyes.”

Kaito tried not to make any expression. Galaxy-Eyes…it rung in his head and his heart, made him feel, for some reason, like he was going to start crying. Not in front of Mr. Heartland.

“And?” he said. “What about this dragon is important?”

“This dragon might be a key,” Heartland said. “It’s an ancient beast from between the dimensions. It will help us find the keys we need to stabilize Haruto. And you, Kaito-kun, seem to be the key to finding the dragon.”

Kaito licked his suddenly dry lips.

“So…you want this dragon, so that you can find…what, exactly?”

Heartland once against tapped the table with his cane, and a new image appeared. That was…oh! Kaito recognized that.

“A Duel Monsters card?”

“Duel Monsters is no ordinary game,” Heartland said. “The game seems to have a very strange power…one to create small doorways between the worlds, and safely channel interdimensional energy in a way humans haven’t learned how to yet…”

Kaito glanced up quickly at the man. This was…this was crazy.

But…but for some reason…it sounded right…

“There are strange artifacts in this world that seem to be of both our world and the others,” Mr. Heartland said. “Your father was studying their history in his research. He believes that they may be able to change forms depending on the era…and in this era, we believe they have become Duel Monsters cards.”

“Why Duel Monsters?”

Mr. Heartland shrugged.

“They’re called Numbers,” Heartland said. “And what we need from you, Kaito-kun, is for you to collect them. They may hold the key to saving Haruto’s life. And for that, we need you. We need the dragon, too.”

Numbers…what an odd name for them…

Kaito stared at the spinning, blank Duel Monsters card on the projection. The hologram changed again, then, and became the dragon again. Kaito’s heart panged softly. This was…this was crazy. All of this. Interdimensional wars, magic artifacts, alien energy, and dragons? It was crazy. He shouldn’t believe any of it. Mr. Heartland was fucking with him. If Kaito didn’t hear it directly from his father, he didn’t want to believe it at all.

And yet…

_Galaxy-Eyes._

It felt right. It felt like a name he had been waiting for ages to hear. Something that resonated in his soul and blood.

And…and if it would help Haruto…

Mr. Heartland moved up beside Kaito, putting his hand on Kaito’s shoulder.

“Well, Kaito-kun?” he asked. “Are you ready to work for Haruto’s sake?”

Kaito looked up at the man, at the hand that stretched towards him. He felt sick again. Was it the Barianite, or was it Heartland that made him feel like this?

“All right,” he said quietly, and he gripped Heartland’s hand back in a handshake.

He couldn’t help but feel like he had just signed his soul to the devil.

 


	16. XVI

“ _But as the world took shape, the dragon's voice began to fail. It realized then that it would never see the world it was creating—never meet the lives that were beginning to shine. But at least, no one else would ever be alone. As the dragon's light faded, it sang it's final notes, and released one final tear.”_

_\- the Heartbeat Cycles. Author unknown_

 

Yuma looked over his shoulder again. Was there something following him?

It was probably just the feeling of Akari watching him walk to school. Gosh, she didn't even trust him to walk all the way there by himself. She had started showing up at the end of school, too, to walk him home. It was embarrassing. The kids already teased him enough.

Yuma swallowed thickly and grabbed at the key around his neck. Dad had given it to him, just a few days before he disappeared, and Yuma hadn't taken it off since. It was all he had left—besides dad's cards, of course, which he kept safely tucked away in his pocket so that Akari couldn't take them.

The metal of the Emperor's Key cut into his skin when he squeezed, and the faint pain made him feel like he was actually awake. He found himself wondering that a lot. What if everything was just a bad dream, and that's why his parents weren't here? It would make sense...but it was also scary to imagine that this was all fake.

Just like Lua's world.

He pushed the thought out of his head, like usual, and scurried on ahead down the road towards school. He wouldn't even acknowledge that thought anymore. He was a big kid now, and there wasn't any room in a big kid's head for imaginary friends. He had his key, and he had his dad's deck

“Yuma-kun!”

He turned around to see Kotori jumping down the last step from her house, running to catch up with him.

“Morning,” Yuma said. He couldn't find it in him to match Kotori's cheerfulness, and Kotori seemed to notice, her face screwing up briefly before smiled again.

“Morning!!” Kotori said, with her usual big smile and flushed face. Her mother had her do kendo early in the mornings, so she always looked like she had just been exercising when she ran to catch up with Yuma. “Oh!! Guess what, Yuma-kun!”

“What?”

Kotori was usually excitable—usually not quite as much as Yuma was, but Yuma had been having trouble just walking forward, much less sprinting along to school like they used to. Yuma wondered if Kotori's extra cheer was to try and make up for Yuma being so quiet.

Kotori opened her mouth, but then a loud shout rang out behind them.

“Oy! Nerd!”

Yuma didn't even flinch when Tetsuo brought his skateboard to a skidding stop inches from Yuma and Kotori. Kotori jumped, though, squeaking.

“Watch it!!” she said, her fists flailing back and forth. “You could have hit us, Tetsuo!!”

Tetsuo just huffed loudly, scowling at Yuma down over the top of his nose. Yuma curled his shoulders inward a bit, wondering why Tetsuo was glaring at him. Tetsuo wasn't really a bully, not anymore, at least. There were worse bullies at school; Tetsuo only made fun of Yuma's cards or his dueling. He always dueled with Yuma when asked, though, unlike the other kids who just laughed in his face and tried to push him down before running away. And he never said anything bad about Yuma's parents, either.

Still, Yuma wondered what he wanted today...why was he glowering so much?

Tetsuo scowled, looking frustrated. Then he pointed a finger at Yuma, almost stabbing him in the chest.

“You and me are going to duel after school!” he said, like it was an order and not a question. “And we're gonna keep dueling til you stop making that gross face!”

“W-what face?” Yuma said, surprised by the announcement.

“That—that sad face!” Tetsuo said. He waved his arm around as though to gesture at what he was talking about, but Yuma didn't get it. “What happened to that—to that thing that you did before when you were losing? The kat-o-bang thing.”

“ _Kattobing_ ,” Yuma corrected him. His father's saying—to challenge, to never give up.

“That!” Tetsuo said, pointing again. “We're gonna duel until that comes back! Okay?”

Tetsuo looked all scowly, still, but there was...was he blushing? It dawned on Yuma then—Tetsuo was trying to make him feel better. Tetsuo was trying to tell him that he wanted Yuma to be happy again. _Tetsuo_ was telling him to get his kattobing back.

Oh... Yuma felt like a blindfold was being pulled off of him. He hadn't...he hadn't been doing his kattobing. He had given up—after mom and dad disappeared, he had stopped kattobinging. He had stopped even trying. Mom and dad would...would be so disappointed...

Yuma's vision blurred as the tears bubbled to his eyes.

“W—what are you crying for??” Tetsuo said, looking alarmed.

“Stop it, Tetsuo, you're being mean!” said Kotori. She marched around Yuma and whacked Tetsuo on the arm with her book bag, and the boy yelped, looking legitimately worried of Kotori's wrath.

“N-no, Kotori-chan, it's okay,” Yuma said. “Ahaha, I'm such a crybaby...to-chan would be disappointed.”

Yuma rubbed quickly at his eyes.

“Okay, Tetsuo-kun,” he said. “Let's duel after school, every day, okay?”

“Hmph! That means nothing changes then,” Tetsuo said. “I'll see you losers at school!!”

“Uh-uh,” Yuma said. “I'll see _you_ at school!!”

And then before Tetsuo or Kotori could say a word, Yuma burst forward, running as fast as he possibly could. His tears flew out behind him as he ran, ran as fast as he possibly could, ran faster and farther than his tears and his sadness and his anger and everything, until the wind and the ground under his feet was the only thing there was.

“ _KATTOBING!_ ” he shouted as he leaped from the top steps leading down into the school.

For a moment, it felt like he was flying.

He could...

He could make it.

He could do this.

He just had to cling to his kattobing...and everything would be all right...

* * *

_This is a wild goose chase. He knows it, they know it, everyone knows it._

_The energy from the Numeron Code has completely disappeared from any system that was fine-tuned enough to search for it. Even the oracles are in agreement. The Code has vanished. They were so close to finding a way into the world where it was held, but now it's gone. It's fled, somewhere. Almost like it has a sentience, like it knew that it was being sought._

_But it_ must _be found. The Emperor of Emperors is insistent on it, terrified, even. He seemed very out of sorts earlier in the day, and not just from the constant threat of encroaching war with Astral. The Ice Empress hadn't been seen for a few hours, not since the Winged Emperor had asked her to meet her elsewhere. The Emperor of Emperors worries about her, and the Seraph Emperor cannot deny that he is worried as well. As soon as he and the Dragon Emperor complete this brief look at the human world through their instruments, he's going to check on both of them._

_He knows this is a fool's errand, and the Emperor of Emperors probably did too. The Dragon Emperor won't stop complaining about it, but the Seraph Emperor tries his best to ignore it. He'll do as his Emperor asks, without question._

_The logic is simple: if the Code has disappeared from it's own pocket dimension, where will it go instead? If it feels threatened, where will it end up? The Emperor of Emperors is betting on its hiding place being in the Physical Realm, among the humans. There are already safeguards there, ways for the Code to hide itself. It has the ability to take on the form of a human if it needs to. They need only find a human with the correct soul signature—_

_Oh? What's this?_

_The Seraph Emperor brings up the alert to his first crystal, studying it closely. It's an image of three human children—the one in question is the boy running ahead, with dark hair and red bangs, a curious necklace bouncing against his chest that this image cannot get a clear image of. Several markers match, enough to put an alert on the system..._

_...no. It's a false alarm. Several soul markers are the same, but they are an ordinary bunch. His soul is as ordinary as a human soul can be. The human boy is of no consequence after all._

_The Seraph Emperor releases the image and moves on to the next alert, which will probably also be a false one._

_After all, the Code wouldn't really be among_ humans _, would it...?_

 


	17. XVII

“ _Hide not your thoughts/from your own eyes. Chaos and order/are just two sides. Both light and darkness/lovers and twins. Ignore the balance/and corruption wins.”_

_\- Path Song. Traditional._

* * *

She had been at this for only about a week, and already she was starting to have a sinking feeling in her chest that she was _way_ in over her head.

 _What were the two of you_ up _to, mom and dad...?_ she thought, biting her lip.

It was late—too late, grandma would probably scold her in the morning for the dark circles under her eyes. But she hadn't finished her column work until late, and she needed to make sure she got her own research done for the day.

Her screen blipped with a notification from someone she was messaging, and she quickly opened up that tab to tap out a reply. Fingers at rest for a moment, she reached for her coffee and gulped down the last few drops. It was cold, and she shook her head with her tongue out at the horrid, bitter taste.

She opened back up to the original tab, eyes flickering through the information.

She didn't have much to go on. Her parents hadn't left any itinerary aside from a few checkpoints. What she did know was that they had gone to Brazil, deep in the south of the Amazon jungle. They hadn't reached their first checkpoint, a small anthropology outpost about ten miles in from where the helicopter had dropped them off. Akari wasn't even sure why they had gone that way—and in fact, if the travel logs she was reading were correct, it seemed that her mother and father had split up before the helicopter had even left the ground. The copter listed Tsukumo Kazuma as an occupant, but not Tsukumo Mirai. She had an airfare ticket, but as far as Akari could tell, she had never even come to the helicopter launch pad—and it had been a job and a half just getting the list of people who had been on board that stupid helicopter in the first place.

_Why did you guys split up? What happened?_

She checked the list of passengers on the helicopter again. A Byron Arclight and a Tenjo Kenshin were the only other passengers aside from the pilot. The pilot was accounted for, so Akari didn't bother looking into him. But Byron Arclight had been declared missing at the same time as Akari's parents, and Akari couldn't find much more about him. Tenjo Kenshin appeared to have faded from existence too, although there were no mentions of him being declared missing. One way or another, it seemed he hadn't come back to the launch pad when it was time for the helicopter to leave, though. So if he wasn't missing, he had found his own way back.

She opened up her own case file again, thinking over her notes. There had to be something she could glean from this.

Byron Arclight was a respected interdimensional physicist. He had written several acclaimed books and participated in an international science summit on renewable energies about a decade ago, and was still considered a top expert in the field of environmental science on top of his physics studies. When he had disappeared it had been a major wave in the scientific community, and more than one search party had been sent out to find him. However, in all of the articles Akari had found about the incident, none of them seemed to be able to decide why Dr. Arclight had decided to travel to the middle of the Amazon jungle. It was uncertain if it was for scientific reasons, which made little sense to his colleagues, or if it was some kind of pleasure excursion.

Tenjo Kenshin was a tougher case; Akari found the name attached to a handful of old scientific journal articles, but none of them were newer than a decade ago. Interestingly, all of those articles were also in the realm of interdimensional physics, the same field as Dr. Arclight. Akari had come to the conclusion that this Dr. Tenjo had been writing under pseudonym since his last articles—she had found a few others in the same field that read the same way as Dr. Tenjo's, only these were submitted under a clearly false name, “Dr. Faker.” Geez, what kind of weirdo came up with a pseudonym like that, though?

What was most strange to Akari was that this Dr. Faker seemed to be heavily involved in city planning, too—his name showed up in a million architectural plans for Heartland City, and he seemed to have been the one who designed most of the city's infrastructure.

“So what were mom and dad doing carting a pair of interdimensional physicists out to the middle of the Amazon...?” she muttered.

The answer, it seemed, was still out of reach for now. But she had a sneaking feeling that she was getting close. Very close.

Part of that was due to how much dark web redacted shit she was starting to run into.

Unease twisted in her stomach as she scrolled through the article that her questionable messenger contact had sent to her. It was some kind of government file, she thought with a nervous twinge. She wondered where her contact had gotten it, and if she was going to be in trouble for keeping it. Just in case, she ran it through a few encrypters to block any internet viruses from picking up that she had it, and made a note to print it off and file it before deleting it.

The first half of the document was mostly just legalese about infrastructure, permits and all that, dedicated entirely to Heartland's design. The second half was where stuff started getting interesting because...well, the good parts were all weirdly blacked out, but...

_Testing on Operation -------- successful, Neighborhood ------- confirmed sufficient ------- energy amplifier. Heartland Tower receiving and channeling optimal amounts of --------- energy. -------- expected to be open within the next two months._

“What kind of energy?” Akari mumbled to herself. “And what...is our city being built to channel energy?” She supposed Heartland did have a very odd configuration; she noted that herself when she saw the maps while researching Dr. Faker.

_Trash receptacles to be redirected to Site ----------- while Neighborhood -------- construction is completed. Testing to occur in -------------------------------- with discarded materials._

What testing??

_Final adjustments added to Heartland Tower. Testing to begin on attracting Numbers._

Akari's jaw tightened. Numbers.

If there was one odd thing she had noticed in all of her research, it was that the English word _Numbers_ constantly showed up. At first, she had dismissed it, but....over and over again?

No, something was up. There was something called Numbers out there, and it was important. She had found a few dark web sites trying to explain the word showing up in multiple government files, folk legends, and numerous other places, but the threads were slim and far between. All Akari knew was that there were one hundred of these “Numbers,” whatever they were, no one could decided exactly what they looked like, and they had some kind of mysterious, otherwordly power.

 _Interdimensional physicists and otherworldly artifacts_ , Akari thought. _Yeah, something is definitely up. What were you two getting yourselves into?_

She still hadn't made any progress on determining where her mother had gone in between the plane and the helicopter, and she was no closer to figuring out what had happened to both of them, or what they had to do with the Numbers.

Her eyes wandered over to the box that she had placed on her desk some weeks ago, almost on a whim. A box she never intended to open. Her fingers twitched towards it, her brain itching. She swallowed through a thick throat.

 _This game has power_ , her father had said.

 _I'm not going to open my stupid deck box_ , she thought, pulse thrumming in her ears. _God, why did I take it out from under the bed?_

Before she could stop herself, she reached out and picked it up, turning it over in her hands. She wasn't sure if it was her imagination or not, but the box thrummed beneath her fingers...as though something inside were alive and with a heartbeat.

She quickly put the box back aside. She'd—she'd put it back under the bed later. Right now, she should think about going to bed. She had done as much as she could for the day....tomorrow, she'd see what she could do to hack into the main database of Heartland Tower....that might be where some more of the answers could be....

 


	18. XVIII

_“We must root out the corruption it is our only hope there is no other way those who disagree must be chaos chaos is our enemy we will destroy our enemies there is no other way there is no other way there is no other—”_

_-final lines, Astral Project, Journal 3. Author lost._

* * *

 

“Let me introduce you, Kaito-kun, you’ll be working very closely with these two so you should make friends now!”

Kaito didn’t bother to even change his expression, scowling at the space in between the two heads without meeting their eyes.  Heartland wouldn’t get his stupid hand off of his shoulder and it was making him tense, far too tense to even make an _attempt_ at pretending to be civil.

They were about his age, probably, maybe a few years older at most.  The one on the left was much taller than Kaito, by about a head, with messy, ruffled red hair that was growing out in weird places, as though he had tried to cut it himself and it had come out uneven.  He was a very broad shape for his age, with a square sort of face, fierce eyes, and a matching grin.  The other was a few inches shorter than Kaito, a slender woman with a mature face that made her look a little older than she probably was, with elegantly shaped eyes and shoulder length violet hair that dripped between them.  She had a much quieter demeanor, and there was something about the hooded way she was staring at him that made him think she was searching for a threat in his face.  Neither of them looked particularly Japanese, Kaito was guessing they must be Eastern European or something.

“This is Gauche,” Mr. Heartland said, gesturing to the red-head.  “And this is Droite.  You two, this is Tenjo Kaito; he’ll be joining you on your Numbers Hunter training.”

“Nice to meet ya, kid!” Gauche said with far more joviality than Kaito thought the situation deserved.  He reached out with one big hand as though for Kaito to shake—Kaito just looked at it briefly, and then glanced up at Mr. Heartland.

“You didn’t say there were other Numbers Hunters already,” he said.

“Just trainees, Kaito-kun—and besides, aren’t you glad for the company?” Mr. Heartland said with a laugh and a soft clap on Kaito’s shoulder.  “I’ll leave the three of you to get acquainted—there’s one other person you’ll need to meet before we do some of your first checkups, so let me go find him.”

He smiled widely at each of them in turn, squeezed Kaito’s shoulder, and then he was off, leaving the three of them alone in the small room.

Kaito let his hands curl up into fists—he didn’t like the way the woman, Droite, was looking at him, and he was sure the big man would get annoyed with him for refusing the handshake.

However, that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Welcome aboard,” Gauche said, moving forward to clap Kaito on the shoulder, acting as though Kaito hadn’t completely shunned him.  “Always nice to see a new face around here, right, Droite?”

“Mm,” was all Droite said, still staring at Kaito without any sense of rudeness.

“Don’t mind her, she’s quiet,” Gauche said with a laugh.  “So what’s your story, kid?  Where’d old Heartland pick ya up?  Droite and I, we got caught in a dimension explosion in Ukraine, government thought Russia was attackin’ ‘em so war picked up, yeah?  Nice to get out of there at least, even if training’s hard sometimes.”

Kaito quietly slipped Gauche’s hand off his shoulder and moved a bit out of his reach.

“I’m not here to make friends,” he said.  “I’m just here for Haruto.”

“Haruto?” Droite asked, her voice quiet.

Kaito tensed up, and looked down at the floor.

“My brother,” he said, and decided he would leave it at that.  “The point is, I’m not here for your friend-making—I’m only here for him, to get the Numbers for him.”

Gauche’s smile slipped a little bit, and he seemed to pout for a moment.

“Come on, don’t be like that, we’re all working together, yeah?  Let’s at least pretend to be friendly, right?”

Kaito opened his mouth to snap something—he wasn’t sure what, exactly—when the door opened again, and all three of them glanced back at it.

“You all getting along?” Mr. Heartland effused—god, the sound of his voice made Kaito want to puke.  “Wonderful!  Kaito-kun, I have someone else for you to meet.”

Kaito’s eyes slid over to the newcomer at Mr. Heartland’s side.  He was definitely older than Kaito by a few years at least, probably older than the other two as well.  He was a little paler than Kaito, with long white hair pulled into a braid over his shoulder, almost blending into his lab coat.  He smiled, making his face look soft and younger than he actually was.

“Hello,” he said, walking forward.  He shifted his clipboard to his other arm and reached out for a handshake.  “I’m Christopher Arclight, your father’s lab assistant.  I’ll also be helping take care of you.”

Kaito just looked at his hand for a moment without shaking it, and then up at his eyes—they were a very deep blue, and he most _certainly_ wasn’t Japanese.  English, if Kaito had to hazard a guess.

“What exactly do you mean by ‘take care of me?’” he said.

Christopher drew his hand back, his smile not changing, as though Kaito hadn’t slighted him.

“Mr. Heartland’s informed you about your energy imbalance, correct?  It’s my job to help you develop healthy ways of expressing the excess so that your body doesn’t start to fall apart.”

Kaito tensed in spite of himself, but Christopher just laughed softly.

“Don’t worry,” he said.  “We’re not going to let that happen.”

He glanced back at Mr. Heartland.

“It is it all right if he comes with me now?”

“Of course!  He’s all yours,” Mr. Heartland said.

Christopher nodded, then smiled at Kaito.

“Follow me?” he said, nodding towards the door.

Kaito didn’t like being told what to do, but it was better than being asked to make friends with these other two, so he just looked down at the floor and followed after Christopher’s feet.  They slipped out into the hallway and headed down the long corridor, their shoes squeaking softly against the cold floor.

“Sorry about all that,” Christopher said.  “Gauche and Droite are a bit of a handful—and Mr. Heartland is certainly unpleasant to be around, isn’t he?”

Kaito glanced up quickly at the other young man, surprised at the admission.

“What, you work with him, and you don’t like him?” he said.

Christopher laughed.

“No one said you had to like your coworkers,” he said.  “I have my reasons for playing nice with him—I’m sure you have your own.”

Kaito looked back down at his feet, not really sure if he was willing to make small talk.  Still, he seemed to be the first sane person Kaito had met all day, which was something.

“So…Mr. Arclight…” he started.

“Call me Chris,” the young man said.

“Chris,” Kaito corrected himself.  “Where exactly are we going?”

“There’s a small examining room upstairs with the equipment we’ll need to monitor your energy levels,” Chris said.  “The first order of business is to see exactly what kind of imbalance we’re working with—everyone is a little bit different.”

Kaito looked back over his shoulder to where they had come from.

“Did you work with Gauche and Droite too?” he asked.

“No, I…only joined on very recently,” Chris said.  “But I have run some of their more current checkups.  They weren’t hit very hard with the interdimensional residue, so their management is fairly simple—it’s actually a benefit for them, they can now make use of some of your father’s new technology that others without the energy can’t.”

Kaito’s lips parted slightly with surprise.  What kind of technology, exactly, was his father developing?  Stuff that could only be used by people who had interdimensional energy in their blood?

Chris lead them to the end of the hall where the elevator was waiting, and they stepped inside.  He hit the button for the sixth floor, and then the doors slid shut and they headed upwards.

“So am I going to learn how to do that too, then?” he said.

“Most likely,” Chris said.  “Although, I’m not really involved with the…Numbers Hunting part of the program.”

He looked a little…uncertain when he said that?  Kaito wasn’t sure what to make of it.  One way or another, though, this Christopher Arclight was probably the most mysterious person he had met all day.  But…perhaps the safest, too, Kaito thought.  Unlike Mr. Heartland, Kaito didn’t feel nervous about being stuck in the elevator with this person—he also didn’t feel tense around him the way that he felt around Gauche and Droite.

Kaito didn’t really think there was anyone here he could trust except for himself or Haruto.  But…maybe Chris was a possibility.  Kaito would have to be careful, though.

The doors opened again, and Chris stepped out into the hall.

“Just down here,” he said, nodding to a door two down from the elevator.

He unlocked it with his keycard and then slid the card back into his lab coat pocket.  The room inside was fairly small, about the size of Kaito’s room back home.  It looked like a cross between a hospital room and the set of a science fiction spaceship.  Kaito wasn’t sure how he felt about any of this.

“What are we going to be doing in here?” he asked, hoping his voice wasn’t betraying his nerves.

“Just a simple scan,” Chris said.  “All I’ll need you to do is lie down on the table for a few minutes.  You won’t feel a thing.”

That sounded like what someone would say when you were _definitely_ going to feel a thing, but Chris sounded calm about it so maybe he wasn’t lying.

Kaito tried not to let his discomfort show on his face as he climbed up on the table and laid down, feeling completely silly.  Chris hung his clipboard up on the wall and started to press a few buttons on one of the machines along the wall.  Screens turned on and started showing readouts of…something, Kaito couldn’t tell from here.  Some kind of apparatus loomed over his head from ceiling, crescent shaped like the top part of a CAT scan.  The piece shuddered for a minute, and then it slowly lowered down until it was hovering about two feet over Kaito’s head.

“Just lay still, this should only take a few minutes,” Chris said.

Kaito wasn’t sure if he should even breathe as the apparatus slowly moved over him.  He didn’t feel anything and there weren’t any lights or anything from it, so he wasn’t even sure how it was scanning him, but he guessed it must be, because the screens out of the corner of his eye were sending numbers and lines across their readouts.

The machine reached his feet, and then it shuddered back up to where it had been before.

“All done,” Chris said.  “See, that wasn’t hard at all.”

Kaito sat up and swung his legs over the side of the table.  Chris had his clipboard again and was looking over the readouts, frowning as he took notes from it.  Kaito couldn’t read what they said because they appeared to be in messy English, and he had no idea what these machines were even supposed to do.  His own forays into technology were nothing like this stuff.

Chris’s brow furrowed a bit as he looked up at the screen and back at his notes.

“Is something wrong?” Kaito said.

Chris startled a bit from his notes.

“No,” he said, looking back at Kaito. “That’s the odd thing…there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong at all.”

Kaito frowned at him.

“What are you talking about?”

Chris pursed his lips, flipping one page over the top of his notes to look at the next sheet.

“You have Astral energy readings in your system but…they don’t seem to be doing anything.  In fact, they appear to have assimilated into your aura structure almost perfectly.  I…I haven’t actually seen anything like this before.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Chris glanced up at him, but it was clear his eyes were somewhere else, on another thought.

“I’m not sure,” he said, slowly.  He pressed his lips together.  “Kaito-san, I’d like to try something.  I’m not sure what will happen, but it might shed a little more light on what’s happening.”

Kaito hesitated.  He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of this, but…

“Okay, do it,” he said.  He had to learn as much as possible about what was going on with him, and what he was capable of.  For Haruto.

Chris nodded, hung his clipboard back up, and walked across to the other side of the room, where a small cabinet was fastened to the wall.  He dug out his keycard and swiped it along the outside, then tugged it open.  He pulled a glove out of one of his lab coat pockets to drag over his hand before reaching inside.

Kaito felt a headache immediately start at the base of his head.  He swallowed thickly as Chris pulled a small Barianite crystal from inside the cabinet.  Chris turned around with the crystal in his palm, and then hesitated.

“Are you okay?” he said. “You look sick.”

“Fine,” Kaito said, though a faint sweat had begun to bead on his forehead.  “What’s that for?”

Chris didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t move, either.

“You have Astral energy in your body, which somehow managed to assimilate neatly with the rest of you,” Chris said.  “Which…technically, shouldn’t be humanly possible.  I want to test your reaction to Barianite in an controlled environment before Mr. Heartland orders any balancing injections.”

Kaito swallowed—his heart was thumping a little too fast and he didn’t know how he was supposed to feel.

“How do we do that?”

“This particular crystal is basically inert, like a vaccine,” Chris said.  “You just need to hold it for a moment or two.  I’ll take it from you immediately if you have any bad reactions.”

He frowned again, looking legitimately concerned.

“Are you all right?  You don’t look good.  We probably shouldn’t try this if you’re already having a reaction.”

Kaito shook his head quickly.  No, he had to do this—he felt like he had to.  His head ached, and there was a tremble in his hands, but it was like—he needed to do it, he needed to get closer to that crystal.  He held his hand out.

“No, let’s just do it.”

Chris looked worried, but he nodded slowly.  He approached Kaito cautiously.  Kaito felt his headache grow worse the closer the crystal got, but he didn’t let his hand move.  Chris pinched the crystal between two fingers, and then slowly, cautiously, lowered it down to brush against Kaito’s palm.

Immediately, Kaito felt the world go black.

For a second—or maybe more—he couldn’t see or hear or feel anything, it was like he didn’t even have a body.  And then he saw it again—the galaxies.

A roar echoed through his brain, shaking his entire body, and he saw that place again, that place on the moon that had been carved out by living claws, and he realized for the first time what it was—it was a temple.  It was a temple, and he had to go there, he had to _be_ there, it was his duty to be there, he had to go and—what, he had to do something, he had to look for something—

The roar twisted into a song, and it was the dragonsong, his mother’s lullaby wrapping around him and pulling him gently away from that place on the moon.  He tried to turn around in the darkness—the dragon was here, the dragon he was supposed to find was _here,_ he had to find it!

_“Kaito—Kaito!”_

Chris’ voice broke through the darkness and then it was gone, the dragon and the galaxies and everything was gone—everything except for the burning, fiery heat that washed off of him and superheated the air around him.

He opened his eyes but he couldn’t see, not for the blinding light that surrounded him—it was so hot, but it didn’t burn him, it just spread out from him like a fiery cloak that spread all around him.

“Kaito, listen to me, you have to calm down, your body can’t handle this level of energy, you have to turn it off.  Kaito, take deep breaths, listen, I’m right here, you have to learn how to shut it off.”

Kaito couldn’t breathe.  He could hear Chris but he couldn’t see him.  The crystal.  He still had the crystal in his hand.  He groaned with the effort it took to turn his palm but the crystal slid off and hit the ground with a clatter.

It didn’t help.  The light wouldn’t turn off, the heat wouldn’t stop billowing off of him.  Panic grew in his throat in spite of himself—what was happening to him?  What was _happening_?

“Kaito,” Chris’s voice came quietly, soothingly.  “Kaito, you can control it, you just need to calm down.  Talk to me.  Does it hurt?”

“N-no,” Kaito managed.  “It’s just—it’s so much.”

His head buzzed, the light was _blinding_ but he couldn’t stop looking at it, couldn’t see past it enveloping him.

“I know,” Chris said.  “But you can control it.  Focus on something important to you.  Talk to me about what you’re fighting for.”

Kaito’s mind immediately flashed to Haruto.

“Haruto,” he gasped.

“Good, good, Kaito,” Chris soothed. “Tell me about Haruto.”

“He’s…my little brother,” Kaito said, focusing on the image of Haruto in his head.  “He’s…he’ four years old…he’s sick, and sad, because our mother died, and he—and he needs me.”

“Keep talking, Kaito, I think it’s helping.  Focus on what you need right now.”

Kaito tried, tried to yank his brain into place.

“I need—the dragon,” he mumbled.  “I need to find the dragon, it will help me save Haruto, I think—I was so close, I’m _so_ close, I can still hear it…”

But no, it was disappearing, the song was fading—and the light and heat with it.  Kaito could breathe again.

He gasped as his vision came back, slowly.  He was…on the floor, leaning back against the table.  The crystal lay on the floor beside him, looking dull.

Chris stood up on the other side of the room, legs shaking a bit.  His lab coat let up a few spirals of smoke and Kaito realized that whatever light he had emanated, it had probably signed Chris.

“I—what happened?” he said.

Chris swallowed as he tried to get his bearings back.

“I believe,” he said.  “Somehow, you also integrated the Barian energy, as easily as you did the Astral energy…and that awoke something in you.”

Chris looked over Kaito with a mixture of curiosity and…awe?

“I’ve never seen anything like that before,” he said. “You condensed light itself around you—you didn’t have any way to control it, which made things more difficult but—it shouldn’t be difficult to find some way for you to channel that kind of energy…”

Kaito let his brain tune out from Chris’ scientist chatter, trying to focus on getting his breath and brain back.  Somehow…something had changed, he realized, his hand flopping onto his chest.  His body didn’t feel different but…something had changed.  He felt somehow lighter.  Like there was helium somewhere in him.

He swallowed as his other hand edged towards the crystal again, brushing fingers against it.  Nothing happened this time, but he felt a soft spark flicker inside it.  So it wasn’t out of energy at all, was it?

Chris was still talking as Kaito flicked the crystal into his pocket.  He could find a use for it.  After all…he had a half finished robot that was going to need an energy source…

And maybe he could work on studying all this interdimensional physics himself.

He _would_ find that dragon…he had to.


	19. Part One Final

Yuma stopped dreaming.

It wasn’t like he did it on purpose, he just…stopped having dreams.  He fell asleep at night and woke up what felt like five minutes later after a night of black dreamlessness.

Maybe that was for the best.  That way he couldn’t dream about his parents, or Lua, or anything at all.  He could just…disappear.

Disappearing was good sometimes.  It felt sort of nice.

Maybe that was why his parents had disappeared.

*    *    *

Akari stopped dreaming.

She refused to sleep.  Her eyes peeled wide by research and glowing screens and the tapping of her fingers on the keyboard—there was no _time_ to sleep.  She couldn't sleep.  Not until her body collapsed underneath her and she succumbed to darkness for hours.

In that exhausted darkness, there were no dreams to be had.

*    *    *

Kaito stopped dreaming.

There was no time.  No time to dwell on waking daydreams of dragonsong and strange dreams about dragons and galaxies—there was actual science here that he had to learn.  Things he had to get the hang of, Number Hunting to learn and energy to channel and a dragon to find so that the Numbers could be hunted, a younger brother to take care of.

There was no time for dreams when Haruto needed him.

*    *    *

Yuma forgot.

His childhood drawings, pushed aside, gathered up by his grandmother's hands and tucked away into attic boxes.  He didn’t want to see them, and after a long time, they faded.  Just another imaginary friend from another childhood, lost and forgotten as though it had never existed.  Years take everything with them in the end.

*    *    *

Kaito forgot.

He forgot the song at the back of his head.  It no longer came to comfort him.  It was nothing more than a fantasy of his imagination, seeking some modicum of hope in a desperate situation.  There was nothing more he could gain from such a childish thought.  A memory lost to the abyss of the past.

He forgot that there were days that they had been happy, once.  They seemed just as much a dream as the song.

Days, dreams, all of them lost.

*    *    *

Akari sat at her desk, the hovering holographic screens surrounding her, D-Gazer clipped over her eye, her gaze flickering from one screen to the next, fingers flying through pages and pages of information, occasionally dropping down to the desk to flip through sheets upon sheets of paper.

At edge of the desk, a carefully dusted portrait of her family smiled out at her.  Clipped to the side of the frame was the tiny newspaper article: _Adventurer Couple Declared Missing._

Tsukumo Akari did not forget.

She didn’t have the luxury.


	20. Interlude I - The Door

 

_Interludes_

**The Door * Merag * Tsukumo Mirai * Ena * Astral-99**

* * *

 

Lua lingered at the edge of everything. The other one was starting to get irritated.

"We are running out of time, Lua," The Door reminded them. Lua. What a silly human name it was. The Door was still getting used to using it. But if it didn't use that name, N began acting like a human child in a tantrum, and that was the last thing the Door needed right now.

"I know," Lua said. They shifted uneasily at the edge of the world, the little pocket of violet shades that they had made for themself. It was a pleasant temperature, even the Door had to admit. It wasn't quite keen on returning to its own pocket of the world any time soon. Lua and Yuma had turned this little pocket of dreams into something truly remarkable. If The Door hadn't been aware of what Yuma was, it would have been utterly blown away by what was here.

But it _did_ know what Yuma was, and it did know what the boy was capable of.

Lua's eyes trailed over the distant mountains, lips tightening with sadness.

"It's just...I don't know if I'll ever see this place again," they said, sadly. "I feel as though this may have been...the last time I will be here."

The Door snorted.

"Don't count yourself too lucky. You and I both know that we don't get to tap out of existence at the drop of a hat."

Lua smiled, but it was sad, distant.

"This is the first time that I have wanted to continue existing," they whispered. "I used to long for dormancy, but now…now I dread it."

Their smile faded slowly at the sight of the white and red specks that began crawling across the distant mountains, like tiny stars moving slowly and lazily in orbit. Distortions...even here, they were spreading, like a parasitic disease. This small pocket should have been the last to see them occurring, much less in such corporeal states. The Door found itself tensing up in spite of itself. They were much too far away to be in any danger. But still, just seeing those unnatural things...to see them infesting even this sanctuary...they were certainly running out of time.

Lua let out a heavy sigh. They turned towards The Door. Not for the first time, The Door was shocked at just how tiny Lua truly was. Their head barely reached The Door's chest, their chosen shape slender, tiny, barely thicker than a stick. So small, transparent, fragile, as though they were made of glass. No more than a child in the eyes of one who didn't know better. The Door _did_ know better, and yet N—or Lua, rather—still appeared to it to be just a child. They could have been mistaken for a young denizen of the Astral World.

"We have one last business to take care of," Lua said.

"Is this really what you want to do? You really want to give up your sentience for _them_?"

"It is what must be done."

The Door's jaw clenched. Lua's mind worked different than its own. They were soft. Kind. The Door wasn't always sure how to be that.

It grated on it, at times.

"Very well...but you know what my price will be."

"The same as always," Lua said, laughing softly. "I will make the contract with you again, old friend. For Yuma's sake. He must have every advantage...everything that we can possibly give him."

The Door nodded. It agreed, of course, but...

Lua's plan bordered on the insane. Would it not be simply _easier_ to let the two Barian Emperors in the abyss die?

Lua held out their hand. Like a child asking for comfort. But no sooner had The Door met their eyes that it knew better—much better. Childlike Lua may look—and even act, at times—but there was an ancientness deep within those pale, glowing eyes. An ancient soul that rivaled even The Door—something deep, old, fathomless, something that still took The Door's breath away every time it caught the barest glimpse of that endless abyss of life and knowledge inside of such a tiny frame.

The Door took Lua's hand, and as one, they turned and stepped into The Door's realm.

Lua let go of The Door's hand then, and started down the path. The Door did not follow—it did not have to. It was already at the end of the path, waiting. Watching. Standing at the beginning and end of all things, as it always had and always would.

Lua stopped at the foot of The Door's true form. Stared up into the harsh, coal red eyes of the dragon's face that leered down at them.

"I have come to accept your contract," Lua whispered. Their voice was small, echoing in the darkness of the abyss.

**_"You seek the lives of the two that have fallen, the Barian Emperors thrown to the Abyss."_ **

"I do."

**_"I will preserve them for you. But that which is most precious to you will be taken in return. Do you understand?"_ **

"I understand."

Lua raised their hand, and pressed it to The Door. The Door could _feel_ the warmth there. The life. Spreading out from that palm and sinking into the dark stone that made it.

Lua gasped softly, then. For a moment, they stood perfectly still, hand pressed to The Door. And then, slowly, softly, like a breath inwards, Lua folded in on themself. The body shrank inward, became light, condensing and pulling in until the human shape was completely gone.

Only a small, swirling card remained, its pieces shifting in and out and past each other, like the beating of a heart, two stars circling it like moons around a planet and leaving behind trails of sparkles.

"Lua" was gone.

Only the Code remained.

The Door sighed deeply.

 **_"That which is most precious...your 'self'_ ** **_is that which is most precious to you."_ **

The Door pulled free, then, into its humanoid shape. It cupped the Code in its hands—Lua's heart, beating between its fingers.

"You never wanted to become cold, the way I had...the way many of the gods had...you wanted to remain as much like the humans we birthed as possible. To care for them. To love like they did."

It pressed their forehead briefly to the Code.

"I'll do my best for you, old friend," it whispered.

Then, it spun its hands once, and pulled the thin veil of blue around the Code, sealing it, protecting it.

It released the Code, and the code vanished. Somewhere safe, The Door hoped. Even it did not know where the Code fled when it needed safety...


	21. Interlude II - Merag

Down. It only went down. Farther and farther and faster and faster, it was the only thing she knew at that moment. Anything else took conscious effort to try and recall. Anything else was madness, horror, terror. She did not want to remember.

She struggled to remember anyway. Where was she? And how? Someone—she needed to help someone. Someone was worried for her, she had to make sure that he wasn't worried. Someone else was—dangerous. Or had the danger already passed? Where was she?

It was all darkness and spinning. She felt as though she were being ripped to pieces. Dammit, dammit, she had to focus. One thing at a time.

_My name is Merag. I am an Emperor of the Barian. My brother is Nasch, the Emperor of Emperors, leader of the Barian World._

_We are at war. The Astral World wants to destroy us. We have been amassing a force to protect ourselves._

_Vector._

She remembered. Remembered his hands, grabbing her by the neck from behind, dragging her across the stones even as she kicked and struggled. Her brother—she remembered him running after her. Remembered Vector threatening her life, telling Nasch to step down from his throne immediately or he would cut her throat and throw her into—

The Abyss. The swirling mass of darkness at the center of their world. That was where they were.

They were getting ripped to pieces at the very soul.

She felt arms around her. Nasch. He had jumped in after her after she had tried to knock both her and Vector into the Abyss together—he had let her go and his wings had saved him, her alone dropping into the swirling darkness. Nasch shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't have gone after her. The Barian needed their Emperor of Emperors. She should not have made him make a choice like that—what would the Barian do without them? And—and Vector. Vector was still up there. Would he take advantage of their absence? Would he declare himself ruler? That would only end in the death of the Barian World. Her people, her home, it would be run into death and ruin and despair. They would fall to the Astral and they would die. _Durbe, Alit, Gilag, Mizael—_

She had to get back up. She had to stop that from happening. She _had to had to had to—_

“ _I will preserve them for you.”_

The voice rippled through her. She felt her breath catch, something in her froze, her heart—did it stop? Was she dead, now?

Where did Barian go when they died?

And then everything stopped.

For a moment, she saw a glimmer across the back of her eyes. A pair of swirling sparkles that circled around a rectangle made up of many puzzle pieces that all interlocked and moved in and out of each other of their own accord. She could see it in perfect clarity— _the Numeron Code_?

“ _I have come to accept your contract,”_ a small voice whispered past her ears. _“My self in exchange for their lives.”_

Merag felt everything inside her seize up. The world flashed around her in a horrible spiral of thoughts and dreams and images. She saw herself, but it wasn't her—herself standing on a battlefield in ancient human clothing—herself as a child in a modern mansion, chased after by her brother while she waved his card just out of his reach. Timelines stretched and warped and overlapped and she couldn't breath, she couldn't _see—_

A face appeared at the back of her mind and she had to gasp. It was a familiar face, but it shouldn't be and it had a name she shouldn't know but she did.

And then everything stopped again.

She stared for a moment into a pair of pure black eyes, flecks of red burning like coals in their depths.

“ _They gave themself up for you,”_ the owner of the eyes said, as though examining her. Considering her. She felt—she felt stripped by those eyes, right down to her very soul, and she shuddered, held captive.

“ _Who are you?”_ she breathed.

The eyes did not answer. They merely lifted to meet her own eyes again.

“ _I hope you and your brother don't make me regret this,”_ they said. _“I had to give up a good friend to save you.”_

Merag tried to speak but the eyes spoke over her.

“ _I'll let you keep some of your powers—but just you. I'm not sure I trust that brother of yours. Your sight will guide you. Make sure you listen to it.”_

She thought she felt a hand brush over her head for a moment. And it was the kind of feeling like...like a father, brushing bangs from her eyes, and she felt so very, very small.

“ _Make sure that asshole of a brother of yours stays in line,”_ the eyes said. _“And does what he's supposed to.”_

The eyes paused.

“ _I_ am _sorry,”_ he whispered. _“You shouldn't have had to become this in the first place...we failed you. All of you.”_

And then she was falling again, falling, falling, falling—

And Kamishiro Rio burst away, gasping for breath, choking and flailing, there was something over her face, something plastic forcing air into her but she just wanted to breathe on her own, please just let her _breathe—_

“She's awake! She's awake! Someone call the doctor, we need him in here right now, both of them are still alive and they're fighting!”

Pain pain pain pain. In her head, in her limbs, in everything, she was dizzy and she couldn’t see and—and where was her brother, where was he, why wasn't he right next to her, hadn't they just been in the car on the way to the theater...?

“Kamishiro-chan, just hang in there. Just hang in there, Rio-chan. You're going to be okay, all right? I'm right here. Just keep breathing.”

 _Rio_ , she thought uncertainly. _Kamishiro Rio. That's...that's my name._

It _was_ her name. Right? That was her name.

Another name flickered over her for a moment. But it disappeared just as quickly.

She was Kamishiro Rio after all, right?

The name of the face she wasn't supposed to know fluttered over her mind before her eyes closed again.

 _Mayutsu_ , she remembered. _That's...that's important...I should remember that..._

 


	22. Interlude III - Tsukumo Mirai

If she was going to be honest with herself, she had never, ever wanted to see this place again.

Mirai glanced out from behind a shining blue pillar. The crystal felt cold under her palms. Too cold. Too distant. She frowned at the faraway frozen sky with its frozen aurora. There was no ripple to it, not the way that it moved back on earth. The Astral always prided themselves on their eternal light from the glowing sky, claiming that the aurora in the human realm was inadequate. Why, one didn't even know when it might appear! It was chaotic and uncertain and you couldn't be certain when you would be able see it next. Here, you could see it every day!

She sighed to herself. Old codgers. Every one of them. Everything had to be just so in their little world. Everything had to be perfect.

Tsukumo Mirai _hated_ perfect.

She peeled herself off of the cold pillar and made her way down the long, empty walkway.

It was precisely midnight in Astral time. Another thing they were obsessed with—time. She couldn't count how many stardials she had seen, one between at least every other pillar, if not every pillar. How many clocks did one really need? And all of them were attuned just perfectly to each other, the little glimmering sparkles hovering over the appropriate number, moving almost imperceptibly forward at the exact same rate. Plodding ever onward, always marking off every moment and watching every second. Could one even consider a world that had no rotation, no orbit, to have time? It was ridiculous.

Midnight was the time that everyone was supposed to be in their homes. Well, technically the curfew was actually nine o'clock (ridiculous) but midnight was more so. Even in a realm that was eternally twilight, there was a strange desire to avoid the night. Dark things roamed in the hours meant to be nighttime, the Astral believed. Dark, chaotic, unpredictable things. And heaven forbid _anything_ at all be unpredictable.

Mirai rolled her eyes in spite of herself as she hurried down the perfectly kept, perfectly flat crystal road, of just the absolute perfect consistency so that you wouldn't slip and slide on it like ice, but it still shone with a perfect reflection of the sky above.

 _Not that there's anything to reflect,_ she thought with almost a childlike petulance. _There's no stars here...not anymore._

The stars had been "too chaotic" and it was "too much work" to put in the effort of reorganizing them and putting them into rows, so the elders had apparently decided to block them out entirely with an Astral veil. Now the only light in the sky came from the frozen aurora, caught and held there with ancient light harnessing techniques.

Mirai checked the time in a passing stardial. Twelve o' five. She had plenty of time. Ena might be an Astral but they, at least, had little use for the idea of time. Why should such beings as old as they take stock in time, they had said once. After all, time was an illusion created to understand the passing moments. And after living so long, it should cease to make a difference. A minute is just as long as a day if you don't know the time.

"Although you always were over-dramatic about everything when you were trying to explain yourself for being late," she said out loud to the pillars ahead, in response to the memory that was floating through both of their heads.

There was a soft laugh, and Mirai had to smile. From behind one of the pillars, an Astral appeared. They were the same height as Mirai, the same shape, with the same hair style, long and flowing down the back with the single strand floating between their eyes, the same face in shape and arrangement. But the similarities stopped there. Ena was an Astral in their pure form, glowing, their skin a soft blue, their hair a dazzling white that floated about them like they were standing underwater. Their eyes were a pale, glowing platinum blue, pupil-less, perhaps flat and unfeeling looking to someone that didn't understand an Astral's face the way that Mirai did.

She had been one herself for a while, after all.

She grinned as she gave her sister an overpowering, smothering hug.

"Oof! You're going to shatter me like glass," Ena said, laughing.

"Aw, Astral are tougher than that, and you and I know it—otherwise, I would have shattered _ages_ ago. Did I tell you I fell off Mt. Everest?"

"You did _what?"_

Mirai laughed—Ena had always been the overprotective type, and judging by the way their hands were flailing now and their face was puffing up in indignation, they hadn't changed.

"It wasn't too much of a fall—Kazuma caught me, anyway," Mirai said with a laugh, tossing her orange hair across her back.

Ena shook their head, putting their hands on their hips.

"Just because you're an Astral and you heal faster than humans, doesn't mean you should be thrill seeking willy-nilly—you can still die, you know. And then who knows what will happen to you, or where you'll go."

"But then who will be there to tease you?" Mirai said as she slung her arm over Ena's shoulder with a laugh.

Ena laughed softly themselves, and then their eyes glanced nervously up towards the towering crystal city.

"We should try to keep it down," they said. "We may be outside city limits, but Eliphas' guard units sometimes come this far to check."

"Even at midnight?" Mirai said.

Ena nodded.

"Eliphas is starting to lose their fear of the night hours. And the guards...none of them are Astral."

Mirai frowned, her eyes narrowing.

"Eliphas has started using the homunculi?"

Ena nodded.

"Soulless they may be, but they make good soldiers with the right programming...and there's no risk of losing an Astral if a fight breaks out."

Mirai's jaw clenched.

"Using those old things...they should be careful. I don't think they're at all stable."

"They're not. And there's not many of them, so the Council has taken to making more."

" _What_?"

"That's what I said...but the rest of the people seem all for it..."

Both trailed off, eyes lifting up to the city.

"It's up there, isn't it?" Mirai whispered, her eyes fixing on the single tallest building with the bulge towards the top where the Empty Throne sat. "Astral-99. It's almost ready to be activated."

Ena nodded.

"War is very nearly upon us," they whispered. "Already there have been fights at the borders between our worlds."

"They're fraying enough to allow people through?"

Ena nodded, their eyes dropping to the ground with nerves. Mirai's fists rolled up.

"Then we don't have any time to lose. Where is the program?"

Ena glanced both ways to make doubly certain they were entirely alone. Then they beckoned to their sister, taking Mirai's hand and leading her down the crystal path...and then off of it.

Mirai sighed with contentment as her boots sank into the loamy soil. The city and the structures of the Astral World were stuffy as hell, and everything was trying so hard to be in order. The wilderness, though...that was where she came alive.

The grasses blew in a gentle breeze, tickling her with their soft, cerulean blue blades. Even the Astral hadn't yet figured out how to control the flow of wind, so it came and went where it pleased. The soil was soft and springy beneath their feet as they headed for the smudge of hills in the distance, a dark shimmering blue like the crests of waves blending into the blue-black sky. Mirai knew from experience that there was a network of crystal caves down there, each one home to a vast cavern full of glowing, beautiful crystals in every shade imaginable, and some that were not imaginable. Exploring them had been one of the reasons she had eventually been kicked out of the Astral World. Well, that and having intimate relations with a human, which was grounds enough for _execution_. She had only barely escaped that...and here she was again, back in her old hometown, right where she had been slated to be killed before she had escaped.

If she was found, those old bastards on the council would probably have her killed on sight.

Her childlike arrogance faded then, though. Because she remembered why she was here again. Why she had come back home.

This was all in danger of disappearing forever. And as much as she had hated living here...as much as the hundreds of years she had spent here had made her hate herself, and the world, and everything, as much as she had felt trapped and lost and dying in this stuffy, rule-oriented world...she didn't want it to disappear. She didn't want it and everyone in it to die.

She had to protect it with everything she had.

Ena led them to the base of the hills and then around the mounds until they found a cavern opening up at the very base. It was hardly big enough to fit a single person.

Ena went first, wedging themself into the hole and disappearing down it.

"It gets wider," they called back. "Just drop down."

Mirai hadn't hesitated at all, though, and was already shoving herself feet first into the hole. It took a few seconds to pop her hips through but after that she slipped right in, dropping to the bottom of a dark dirt hole. Scatters of dirt fell around her and into her hair as she stood upright—it was tall enough for that, but just barely.

Ena waited, holding an orb of light in their hand. They frowned and reached out to brush the dirt out of Mirai's hair, smoothing it out and laying it back down over her shoulders.

"Do we really have time for that?" Mirai said, blushing at being treated like she was a twenty year old again.

Ena shook their head, smiling sadly.

"I've...missed you," they whispered. Their fingers lingered on Mirai's shoulder for a moment. "I've really...missed you."

Mirai's heart panged at the sound of sorrow in her sister's voice, the longing, the barely constrained tears that wanted to spill out.

"En...I'm...I'm sorry..."

Ena drew back, curling her hand against her chest.

"N-no, I'm sorry, you're right, we don't have time for this..."

Mirai caught her before she got away, wrapping her in a tight embrace.

"I'm here now, En," she whispered. "I'm here now..."

Ena trembled under Mirai's grip, and she gripped both hands to Mirai's arms, letting the orb of light float to the ceiling.

"I just—I keep replaying your trial over and over in my head and I just keep thinking that if I had done something, if I had kept you from leaving that day to go see him, they never would have found out about you and Kazuma and I wouldn't have had to see you almost _die—_ "

"Sh, sh, it's okay...it's not your fault, En...it's not your fault..."

She stroked her hand through Ena's hair, the way she had done when they were both children.

"You're such a crybaby," Mirai whispered, tightening her grip on her sister.

"You do this to me, you know," Ena sniffled, but they were almost laughing. "Always getting yourself into trouble. Always making things difficult for me. Always getting _me_ into trouble when you fall off a building and get hurt."

"That was _one_ time."

They both laughed softly, holding each other in that darkness. Years. It had been years since they had seen each other. Mirai pressed her forehead to Ena's. Ena opened up a memory to her and they shared it together for a moment. The one time that they had been able to meet after Mirai had escaped to the Astral World. The brief moment they had had peering through opposite mirrors, Mirai showing off a one-year-old Akari in her footie blue pajamas that she had picked out herself. Ena had laughed at how strange the pajamas looked with their cartoon buckets with googly eyes—who decided that it should be _buckets_ of all things? Humans came up with the funniest ideas!

The memory faded slowly. Their embrace faded even slower, drawing back from each other, still holding each other's hands.

"Let's fix this," Mirai said. "All of this. Then—then you can come and visit, and I can properly introduce you to Kazuma, and Akari, and—and Yuma."

Her voice caught on her son's name. Ena knew why. Their understanding of the situation flooded to Mirai, their minds still somewhat linked so that the emotions washed back and forth between them like ocean waves, so that it was sort of hard to tell where one of them began and the other ended.

Mirai didn't break off the connection. It felt better to have it there, for support. Ena smiled at her, and Mirai felt like a child again, finding comfort in her sister's embrace.

"Yes," they said. "I'd...I'd like that a lot."

They stood for a moment longer.

Then together, they made their way down the dark tunnel.

Dirt scattered over them at their passing. The ground was angling downwards. They were going deep, Mirai thought. Very, very deep. She squinted through the darkness. Even Ena's light couldn't illuminate far.

However, it wasn't long until Mirai caught the soft violet pulsing up ahead. She grinned with excitement, feeling Ena's relief crashing together with her own emotions, and they both hurried forward, anxious to reach the end of their journey.

The cavern stretched out before them. Crystals jutted out from every angle, a bumpy jagged surface of glowing shades of purple. They coated the entirety of the vaguely spherical chamber, glittering like a geode.

But it was a large, bulbous crystal in the middle, the bulging one with shadows inside, that the pair was most interested in.

The crystal hung from the ceiling and melted into the floor below, as though it were a pillar keeping the cavern alive. Through the warped glassy surface, it was impossible to see entirely what was inside—save for a little bit of flickering light, like something pulsing. Like a heart.

Mirai swallowed as she approached it, releasing Ena's hand. She put one hand against the crystal—it was warm, as though she were touching human skin. It was... _eerie_.

"This...this is the code...?" she said. "This is the code that The Door took from Yuma...?"

Ena just made a soft sound of affirmation. Mirai's fingers clenched against the crystal, feeling her chest tighten up. This felt so _wrong_. She...if she had had anything to say about this when it happened...she would have told them to stop...but she had never dreamed, never for a moment, that when Yuma told her stories about his dreamland, that it was actually...that he was actually going to the world where the Numeron Code lived...

She swallowed again, her throat tight. Ena's hand alighted on her shoulder, their hand cool like water against her skin.

"This is so wrong," Mirai whispered. She put a hand over her mouth briefly, squeezing her eyes shut. "This is...that thing just... _took_ this from my son."

"And what would you have preferred instead?" Ena whispered. "That everything in the known universe would know what he was as soon as he entered puberty? This gives us time, Mirai. It gives us time to hide him—to protect him."

Mirai tried not to let slip the tears catching in her eyelashes. This was her _son_ they were talking about. Her _son_ was the one who had had these precious bits of code removed from his very soul...her _son_ was the one who had found the Numeron Code, millennia after they had thought it was simply gone...her _son_ was about to become the tipping point for an interdimensional war.

And here she was, hiding in another world, leaving him and her daughter completely alone.

"What is wrong with me?" Mirai said, her voice choked. "I should be there with them. I should be protecting them."

Ena squeezed her shoulder.

"You are," Ena said.

Mirai shook her head. Ena didn't understand...they really couldn't. They had never had a child, and they probably never would. Mirai inhaled sharply through her teeth.

"Okay," she whispered. She ran her tongue over her lips. "What do I do?"

Ena moved their hand off of Mirai's shoulder and onto the surface of the crystal. It melted back against her touch, parting like water until it opened up to the swirling red light within.

"We are going to install this program into your soul," she said. "This data contains Yuma's ability to channel magic. You won't be able to make use of it because your soul's program is incompatible, but it will keep the data from dissolving."

Mirai just nodded. Unlike Ena, she had never paid much attention at all to Astral advances in soul technology, so she really had no idea how any of it worked.

"What...what _exactly_ does this do to Yuma?" she said.

"He can't channel magic," Ena said simply. "Or any of his inherent, natural soul abilities at all. It will...disable him, slightly, but not enough to make much notice. At worst, you'll see his ability at dueling drop significantly, as he won't be able to access the soul circuitry within his cards. However, the pro of this is that no one will be able to sense what he's capable of. He'll be effectively invisible to anything that senses magic."

Mirai just nodded, feeling dumb. She didn't get it—but she didn't really have to. In the end...what it meant was that it wouldn't _really_ hurt Yuma. But it still felt...so wrong...this was a _part_ of him. A part of him that they had stripped from him before he even knew it was there. She could say it was to protect him for as long as she wanted, but it didn't stop it from hurting.

"But _you'll_ have to be careful," Ena said, their voice actually cracking a bit. "Because as soon as we add this data to your soul program...everything that would have been attracted to Yuma will be attracted to you instead."

"I knew that much from the start," Mirai said. She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again. "Okay. I'm ready. Let's do it."

Ena frowned, but they reached into the crystal and cupped the orb in their hands, careful not to touch it too much, but let it float just over their hands. They turned to Mirai then, and Mirai stood up a little straighter.

Ena hesitated just a moment.

"Will you be safe?" they whispered.

Mirai flashed her sister a smile.

"I don't care what it is, nothing can catch me when I'm in the wilderness," she said.

Ena bit their lip. But then they just let out a breath, approached Mirai, and carefully began to weave the data into Mirai's soul. It didn't hurt—didn't feel like much of anything at all, really. She held still until Ena was finished, and the red glow faded beneath Mirai's skin, disappearing as though it hadn't been there at all. The crystal room felt cold and dark without it, only Ena's cold orb of light providing any illumination.

And then Mirai could sense them.

"That was fucking fast," she swore. "Ena, go out the way we came."

"They're swarming," Ena whispered, their voice cracking. "Mirai, there's too many of them."

"And they'll all be after me," Mirai said.

She grabbed her sister's hand and squeezed it briefly, pressing the back of Ena's hand to her cheek. Then she abruptly closed her mind off to her sister, and pushed Ena back towards the entrance.

"Where will you go?" Ena cried back after her. "This is the only way out!"

Mirai just flashed Ena a huge grin. Then she flipped open the pocket of the cargo pants she had stolen from Kazuma years ago, and tugged free the little stick of dynamite.

"Humans have some great magic of their own," she said. "Now _go_."

Thankfully, Ena did not linger any longer. Mirai let out a breath, and pulled out her lighter. She could feel them crackling all over the top of the mountain, her head buzzing with the sixth sense that let her know when distortions were gathering. These were the things that were searching for her little boy. In the Astral World, she couldn't hide Yuma's code. On Earth, Yuma would have a few more years of insulation from the other dimensions, but once he had hit puberty, these things would have been tearing their doors down looking for him.

_I'll go as far away as I can from him. They'll never get near him again._

She lit the stick of dynamite and threw it hard against the other side of the cave.


	23. Interlude IV - Ena

It was quiet in the Chamber of the Empty Throne.

Ena lingered at the foot of the steps, staring up at the giant crystal throne. It hadn't held a ruler in a long, long time. The King of Light and Shadow had not graced the Astral throne in many millennia—not since before Ena's time. The Astral World had kept itself too far aloof. Too separate. It tried too hard to keep itself pure, free of chaos. It had not accepted the rule of the King of Light and Shadow for thousands upon thousands of years. Now, if the King had dropped the “shadow” part of the title, maybe they would have. But of course, the King could not. That would disrupt the balance. But there had been no King for several decades to even attempt to make peace with the Astral World anyway.

Ena ran their fingers across the cold stone steps, sighing. The Astral World had long forgotten the balance. It was the reason for their slow march towards death.

 _Why can no one else see?_ They thought. _See the way that we are failing?_

Sickness had set into the city. So many Astral were showing the signs of it, the cracks that ran down their bodies in terrible designs, going deep into them so that they couldn't breathe, their hearts would barely beat, and they would fall into deep sleeps that were near impossible to rouse them from. Ena worried about what would happen when someone fell asleep and never woke up. Death was not a familiar prospect to an Astral. And if it decided to visit them, then they knew that the panic would set in. And that would be when the riots began.

_Chaos will find us no matter how much we try to fight it._

They settled themselves on the steps, hands twisting into their dress. Time ticked by. They could hear the pendulum swinging in the giant stardial behind this room. Even they, who thought the Astral obsession with time was ridiculous, could feel the seconds ticking down.

 _He will come_ , they thought. _The Bringer of a Thousand Distortions will come again, and this time we will die_.

The Chamber of the Empty Throne was a large one, of polished blue crystal and sweeping, tall arches that stretched to remarkable heights above. Intricate, curvy pillars lined the far wall, which was mostly open to the large balcony and the sky above. The frozen aurora stared blandly back at Ena, and not for the first time, they longed to see something different. Something that would tell them that their world was not deteriorating, not stagnating to the point of being beyond fixing. They longed for the golden hues of a sunset that Mirai had described to them, the gradients of pink and lavender and blue and orange that would awash the sky in light and color to herald the end of the day. It sounded a beautiful, glorious prospect to Ena. Even the very Earth itself knew how precious every day was, without mourning what was past...it knew how to celebrate the ending of a day. The Astral did not know how to celebrate an end.

The Astral did not want to believe in endings.

How much time had passed since they had seen Mirai? A few years, already? It couldn't have been that long. It felt like mere months.

After their work was done, their sister had to go into hiding. With Yuma's soul signature woven into her own code, she was a beacon for all of the distortions who wanted Yuma's power.

Ena had wanted to join her—wanted it so badly that it hurt. But their sister knew her way around the Astral wilderness far better than Ena did, and Ena knew they would only slow her down. Mirai lived and breathed the wilderness, the fire and uncertainty of adventure. Things that Ena longed for, but didn't know how to grasp. She would be fine, they told themself every day. She would be fine. She could take care of herself.

And Kazuma would join her, after he finished his own work here...they would protect each other, as they always had. Ena would have to trust him to take care of their sister. There was a tiny stab of jealousy that came with the thought, but they squashed it. That conflict was long past. They were glad that their sister was happy with him. They were...glad...

Their eyes rose up to the orb that rested at the end of the chamber, hovering and swirling under the light of the aurora. All of their thoughts had been an attempt to draw their eyes away from this.

The orb hovered on the balcony. It turned almost lazily, as though made from several layers of stars that were all moving at different speeds and in different directions. It was difficult to see through those layers, but Ena knew what the faint shadow inside was.

“Astral-99,” they whispered. “The hope and savior of our race.”

They laughed hollowly. A farce. What a farce it was. The Astral-99 homunculus was millennia old. No one still lived that knew how to use it. And even if there was someone, no one knew where the key part was.

No one knew where to find the Numeron Code.

Ena hugged their knees to their chest and rested their cheek on their knees, still staring at the orb that held the ancient weapon.

 _What were you?_ They thought. _Who were you? Were you like an Astral? Do you think? Do you...dream?_

All they had were a few old journals chronicling the first war. A vessel built to hold the god code, the force that had created the world, and channel it as a weapon to destroy the distortions that threatened them.

 _And now we have created our own enemy_ , they thought. _And we are going to use the fruit of our failures to solve the problems we ourselves created._

Ena sighed and buried their face in their knees.

_Where is he?_

Kazuma should have been here by now. Human or Astral, they knew he should have been here by now. He had claimed he had found the key that held the final code necessary to reprogram the homunculus. To turn it from a destructive force into something more productive.

They were going to steal the homunculus.

Ena shivered at the thought. It was a terrifying and yet exciting prospect. They were going to steal the homunculus. Eliphas wanted to use it to destroy Earth. They believed Earth held the doorway to the pocket world where the Numeron Code had hidden itself. They weren't wrong.

But destroying Earth and the human realm would not reveal the door. It would most likely seal it away forever. That was why they needed the program to change Astral-99's objective.

That was when they heard the whispering.

Ena's head jerked up. Someone in the hall, there was someone coming—there was no rule against them being in here, but that didn't mean it wasn't frowned upon, and it would look suspicious and they would have to come up with an excuse—if someone was coming up here then that meant Kazuma couldn't make it and then everything was lost—

But the whispering continued and it grew neither farther nor closer. They frowned, staring into the dark arch to their right that lead to the hallway. Their imagination? But no, it continued, and continued, and they couldn't be making that up.

Their eyes wandered over to the orb on the balcony.

...there?

Ena rose with a rustle of fabric. They hesitated, hand to their breast, staring, frowning. They weren't imagining it. It was...it was coming from there.

Ena took a step forward. Then another. And another.

They stood before the orb, then, out on the balcony in the cool, breezeless air. They half circled around the sphere, staring through the many layers to the small shadow within. They felt as though there should be some kind of pulsing there, like a heart. But it was a homunculus built to _hold_ a heart—so it could not have one of its own, and thus there was no pulsing light within it.

Ena put their hand on the sphere. It was remarkably solid for something that appeared to be made of dust and starlight. For a moment, she felt a thrumming. Like…like breathing. Something breathing, or shifting, like inside a womb. Unlike many other Astral, Ena knew what a womb felt like—Mirai had been pregnant just before she had had to flee, and Ena remembered putting their hand to her belly and then jumping with surprise at the kick from inside. Remarkable, that a human body could foster life the way it did. So very different from how Astral were born, simply falling from the stars on the prescribed days in the form they would remain in for the rest of their eternal existence. Mirai had wanted her own children, and she had been willing to give up her Astral body, been willing to turn to uncertain magics, to change herself into a human that could support a life.

Ena pressed their other hand to the sphere, feeling the thrumming like a rhythm against their palms.

Life. There was life inside here. They called it a homunculus, but it was different from the beings that Eliphas created to guard the borders of the Astral World. This life felt…real. Not cold and soulless, not like the blank eyes of the homunculi on the borders, but a warm, thrumming life like the feeling of a child waiting to be born.

 _What are you?_ Ena thought at it again. _What…what were you? And what will you become?_

There was no answer. Of course there would not be. They were probably imagining all of this—this homunculus would be as soulless as the rest. A weapon forged to destroy the distortions. Nothing more.

Or…

A crash rang out in the hallway, a shout. Ena whipped around, clutching their hands to their breast, heart hammering. What was that? What was going on—

A golden homunculus staggered back into view with a hiss—its vaguely human shape was hunched over slightly, enlarged shoulders and dangling arms tipped with deadly claws, elongated, almost wolf-like face snarling. But something struck it back, out of sight, and then Kazuma was hurtling into the door way. He gripped the side of the door, a trickle of blood running down the side of his head, eyes wide and searching the stairs at the foot of the throne.

“Kazuma!” Ena called.

His eyes snapped to them.

“Ena,” he breathed. “You have to—fix the programming, I’ll draw them away—I’m sorry, there were more them around than I thought there was and I couldn’t sneak through—”

“Me? I have to—you haven't given me the program!”

“It's simple—just—strip away the excess initiatives—reduce it to its initial directive—”

And then Kazuma was already whipping away down the hall and a howl rang out from one of the homunculi. Feeling the crystals under their skin grow cold with fear, Ena ducked behind the sphere, hoping that no one would see them from the doorway here.

Initial directive?? Its initial directive had been to destroy Don Thousand!

Their breath caught.

No. That wasn't right. That wasn't quite right.

_Astral-99's initial directive was to seek and host the Numeron Code._

They pressed their hands to the sphere again, shaking as the howls and shouts of the homunculi rang through the halls. Kazuma might not even make it out of this, they thought. If he wasn’t killed, he’d be imprisoned, and then they’d lose their chance.

Ena had only this one shot.

They pressed their hands harder against the sphere as though they could push through and reach the incubating homunculus inside. This was—this was probably going to hurt. If the homunculus could feel such things. They were taking everything. Stripping it away and reducing it into shards of code. Taking away every bit of its programmed information bank and shredding it, sending it flung out across the stars to reduce it to only a single thought.

_Find the Numeron Code._

That would lead it to the beacon, left behind on Earth.

“I believe in you two,” Ena whispered. “I really do.”

_I don't have a choice._

They pressed their hands to the sphere and began to untangle and remove code.

 


	24. Interlude V - Astral-99

Warning. Data files incomplete. Data files incomplete.

_The warnings have been going off in zir head for years. Ze's learned how to ignore them and continue to sleep._

Integral circuitry unaccounted for. Memory logs inaccessible.

_The same warnings, over and over. There's nothing ze can do to address them. Ze wishes, sometimes that ze was in perfect dormancy, untroubled by these constant, constant error reports. Ze can't fix them. Where are the engineers? They needed to come and fix zir._

Power source offline. Positioning system corrupted.

_Just let zir sleep. Ze wants to sleep. Why can't ze sleep? Didn't ze already do what was asked of zir? Zir primary function was forgotten long ago, lost in the mess of error reports. But the update logs confirm that ze succeeded in zir initial programmed mission. So ze should have been decommissioned ages ago. Right?_

_Just let zir sleep...please. Things hurt. There's a feeling of fracturing in zir chest that pangs at zir chest_ constantly. _It's probably the missing circuitry that the error messages warn of._

Warning. Defense systems offline. Update log has been corrupted. Warning. Circuit communication with outer layer has been disrupted.

_Hm? Hang on. That's a new error message._

Memory files fractured. Attempting back up systems.

_Ze shifts, suddenly nervous. What is happening? Code is unraveling around zir._

Memory back up processes compromised. Authorizing emergency transfer to external memory banks.

_Zir memory files! They're being removed—sent through a network to an external bank! Someone is altering zir code!_

Emergency beacon located. Physical transference activated.

_That error message is—because of the danger, ze is automatically being transferred to the safe zone. Someone is unraveling their very code—the transference needs to be authorized immediately—_

_Something...something is calling zir. Zir fractured code in zir chest tightens and squeezes painfully._

Primary functions backed up. Emergency objectives stabilized. Physical transference to safe zone authorized.

_These memories are already falling apart. The final removal of all but the essential objectives into an external memory bank is almost completed._

_Ze has one final thought before the transference authorization resolves._

I can hear it.

The missing part of my code.


End file.
